In the end it’s the smallest of things
That make the biggest of impacts.
It’s the last ripple of an earthquake
Or of a skipped stone.
It’s like how you’d rather cut open your leg
Than turn a corner and stub your toe.
It’s the smaller kiss on the forehead
That follows the longer one on the lips.
When saying goodbye
It’s not the deep looks into each other’s eyes
It’s the rear-view glance at that person’s
Back that makes you cry.