This Poem by Ted Steger

No words need be spoke,
To understand,
The feel of your face, Burning,
Distant. Wandering.
Tracing the horizon,
Never faltering,
Never fading.

And even as you walked away,
With no last words,
No pristine backwards glance against,
The silhouette of the sun.
You still managed to spell it out,
with every blink of your eye,
every breath you took.
It was goodbye.

Not in the normal sense,
No one moved away,
No one cut the ties,
It just kind of happened.
Like the way you never see the hour hand of a clock move,
Or the way the days thread into months,
Into years,
Into decades.
It's slow and gradual,
But definite.
Its real.
Its life.
And in life,
We don't get to say goodbye,
In the burning essence of the sunset,
With a final kiss.
In life,
We live the goodbyes,
With words left half-spoken,
And regrets that linger so long,
Its hard to imagine them dying.