Leaving (Dedicated to Carla Guzzardo)


I wish it would rain tonight
as I drive down this highway
which rises over the neighborhood
like a shelf over my old dollhouse.
I still see her,
lingering over our dinner,
her glasses falling down her nose,
she pushing them up.
Strong in her faith that this time,
they will stay where they belong.

I see her smiling at me,
that smile that always managed
to make me follow suit
even when I had almost every reason not to.

I'm tired of watching that old moon
glide alongside my window
trying to cheer me up,
as if its presence
could somehow make up for
her absence.

A part of me will always be there,
sitting across from her
at that dinner table,
at all our shared tables.

The other part
willingly hugged her good-bye,
slipped on my shoes,
got in the driver's seat
and turned the key.

The engine roars in my ears
like a crowd at New Years eve.
joyous for another chance,
another page turned.

Still, my windshield is blurring
like an impressionist painting --
and every star stands uncovered in the sky.

-Carmen Rane Hudson