Write...
When did the tide so take us under?
How did we pick sides and grit our teeth;
What was it that made us cease to speak?
Why couldn't we accept differences
becoming the exceptionalists!
Was it I that failed to carry you?!
for the distance... where you now fade fast
to the west coast in your very best clothes—
"a where," filled with other people's ghosts...
What was so wrong that you couldn't breath;
this puddle, a meager bath I know...
Your self seen primed as if for the Bay
or for the shore, what would yield you more!
Have I only our resentment left!?
Seeing you've walked... and keep on leaving
Gone when here and again when you went—
"Off," mentally never looking back...
Was it me who feared the alone?
Now I close the door to my unknown
where echoes of us by contrast roam...
While meeting on the road a friend asks:
Are you going...? or coming from home?