it's like the fuzzy streak left across a shut-closed car door window on a "Goodbye Jane," perhaps a "Goodbye Forever"

where the sadness—blank, distant, muffled innermost I-already-miss-you's—it's all there and we just hug the phantom between us: one last joke

before

      the      wheeelss

roll
    away.




*(my 4-wheel drive
parked in neutral
greeting inconvenience
like the credits
at the end
of an hour)