What's Left Behind
All the trips have been made
between the house
and the small white Toyota.
All the bundles and baskets,
all the clothes on hangers
and hooks, paper bags of this
and that, even the last shoebox
has been piled into the car.
She embraces me,
kisses me on the lips; I feel
her breathe in touched silence.
She kneels down and tells
the little girl in the yellow dress
that her lover Bob has a striped cat,
that she can come and play
anytime she wants.
The smiling little girl
is our grand-daughter.
We stand in the drive
and wave our goodbyes—
to twenty-eight years,
to grand-mother.
© R.H. Peat — 6/5/2000 — 11: 52 am
Form: free verse - 6 strophes - 22 lines
Intent: the broken family never mends
Published: Canada:
'In Transit' (Poetry of People on the Move)
Border Town Press: — 2014
Photo by RH Peat
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem