On Saying Goodbye
By Belinda Cannon

May I have your hand, quickly
may I tell you what I know for sure?
Nothing.
For absolutely certain, I know nothing.

Only that, my breath comes in
and - pause - goes out again.
I know the sun sets, whether or not
the clouds obscure the view.
I know water is wet,
your tears, I know they taste salty,
I have wept with you.
I have held your fragileness close to my own
I have tasted the shape of your long goodbye,
morsel, by tender morsel.
I have wished I could have held you here,
close to sunsets and breaths,
tethered by a whimpering wish.
And, I have practiced goodbye,
over and over as I watched your waning light on the horizon.
I’ve practiced shaping my lips to this challis
without regret.

Thank you for the contribution, Belinda!