Formally titled ‘THE ENDING TIME’
A story I heard that I felt must be retold. I’ve taken on HIS sorrow as if it was mine. In reality I thank my God this is not my life. So, in re-creating these minutes in time I must give commiserations to the anonymous contributor on Reddit and ask his forbearance for my interpretation.
Morning again! Must get up.
Big day today. Not a welcomed day though.
Who’d ever have thought this could be:
This day would come… could come?
Coffee’d up and cases packed.
Just some space ready in my old rucksack
for the final fragments I’ll take:
Bequeathed. Allowed. Given.
The doorbell rings. She is here.
I fill her waiting trunk with my cases.
We are dancing around our loss –
My loss, her beginning.
Reluctant, I climb the stairs
one last time – and I’m greeted by our two
fluffy feline purring babies
who slide around my legs.
I rise from the loving cats
and wipe away streaming tears on my sleeves.
My wife wraps her arms around me
and plants a kiss ckeekward.
I tuck the last two photos
in my rucksack, and through reluctant eyes
I look around at what was ours.
She says, ‘It’s time we left.’
I bravely leave our flat for
one final sorrowful time. She drives me
to the airport, from where I’ll fly
away from… married life.
Silence reigns inside her car;
maintaining our amicability
it’s best to gulp back my sorrow.
Leave – because I love her.
She holds my hand one last time,
gives it a gentle squeeze while looking down
at the floor, gets back in the Prius;
slinks into the haze of cars.
In my seat: Row 3, window.
Climbing towards fresh white clouds of hope.
Below, the grey pain of betrayal –
being dumped for some new guy.
I’m a half-hour from parents,
Who’ll be waiting at the terminal.
Back home to those who still love me,
and, thank God, always will.
© Griffonner 2022