Page 45 - Contrast2006
P. 45
Once I've said my good-bye, I love you,
I'll see you tomorrow, I take off the blue
gloves that we're all made to wear. They leave gritty,
chalky residue on my hands until I desanitize them with a citrus smelling
harshness
burning my too-short fingernails - opposite of yours.
I'm reminded only after I leave of the Christmas cheer
surrounding the multi-colored brick encasement
you now call home - so far away
from 301 Nanticoke Street, by the deep
~ed and gold of the too green too perfect tree
Just outside your room, and as I leave
the parking lot, Santa takes off toward the sky
and glowing white lights blur
as I wipe my eyes.
41
