looking through the stained glass door,
anxious for her arrival.
wondering, if she’d ever come back
home.
the intensity of my fright made me jump,
was that her?
had she come back?
was it her at the door,
with a brown leather suitcase
plaid blue hat and
umbrella?
had she finally realized why?
why she needed to come back?
why she needed
daddy and
in her existence in the cold
mournful world.
why leaving us was her
worst choice.
who else could she get the
courage from?
the strength that kept her on her feet
every day.
the support, the love
that only a family could give.
was it her? at the door,
with her candy-apple red
rain boots, the grief,
pure in her sea-green eyes?
had she finally realized why?
why she needed to come back?
i don’t imagine she did;
cause her frown of sorrow isn’t at that door.
