Thirty homes.
Eight schools.
Five colleges.
Forty-five room-mates (plus).
One fiancé.
Two houses.
Four cars.
Six pets.
Eighteen employers.
Countless friends.
Bits of my heart snagged loose and left behind;
precious and prone snippets that shriveled and lifted into the fickle wind,
betrayed by the breath that carried "good-bye."
My memory alone holds the map of my journey,
and it has erased so much- -
unaccustomed to the burden of retention,
untested in the skill of holding on,
unrelenting in the motion of forward.
Separation from my heart's northern star
- -a fleeting, fearful side-affect of my imagination- -
ushers in a breathless crush of pain.
I know how to say good-bye,
which is why
I never want to know how to lose.
All of my babies are twins
born side-by-side with the fathomless fear of losing them.
Heaven and earth forbid it and perish the thought.
Change is laying in wait to devour the lovely nest
I have feathered here in the clean and dew-dampened Northwest.
It is lurking. It is licking it's long jagged teeth.
I am not afraid of Change.
I know how to say good-bye.
I'll pay my toll to the troll and pass through.
I'll say "good-bye" to places and friends.
Again.
As long as Loss and I
have an understanding.
©2013 Kathleen Ditty Simmons. All rights reserved.