The train hums low and beastly,
at last, carrying you past the horizon’s edge.
Monied interest stitches the world shut behind you,
full pockets clinking like an end-credit song.
Each step you took scattered dust into dusk.
a thread cut loose from this simulation’s clumsy loom.
The wind carries its promises, in perpetuity,
as your laughter still echoes in my hollows.
its chairs stacked like memories no one cares to claim.
I wonder what life would have made of you,
a painter of storms or a keeper of stars?
Goodbyes are like seasons tripping over themselves.
Nothing in the world buys reprieve from this,
there’s no return trip, no ticket back.
where goodbyes bloom like weeds, stubborn and wild.
In perpetuity, I’ll carry with me this quiet wound,
wondering if you, too, ever paused to look back?
~Eric Vance Walton~
(Gif sourced from Giphy.)