I came back to watch
the glowing magenta lift off,
hungover with grief
and hungry to feel loved.
Not a cloud was in the sky,
just a rich haze hovering over the line.
Rainbows shimmered at my feet
as the muddy blue horizon gave way.
The geese, drifting silently,
took no notice.
The gulls, oblivious to this minor miracle,
laughed their way through yesterday’s celebrations.
I could be here, and I am.
But also I am not—
too caught up in a long-denied truth
and where it might take me.
The sun, now high and yellow and too-bright,
illuminated the edges of my pages
as the geese, now flapping above me,
honked out an invitation.
And I accepted.
