For All the Times That Might Have Been the Last Time (Betsy) The thunder had diminished to a low mutter and You said “I think the rain is over” and you Picked up your jacket and I watched your arms As they slid into the sleeves and I said “I’ll walk out with you.” Or maybe I didn’t say it out loud, but it Was what I thought. So we walked together to the driveway And I watched as you brushed away Some leaves and twigs that had Fallen on your windshield and The air still smelled like rain, there Were puddles everywhere --I think Our feet got wet, I’m not sure Because I didn’t know that this would be The last time. I mean, I knew you were upset and I was, Too, but I didn’t cry, not then, I didn’t Want to cause a scene and I thought we could Talk about it later on maybe tomorrow or some Other time, because I believed that There would always be more time. So You slid into the drivers seat and closed The door and I leaned over to kiss you through The window but it was closed. And you turned On the ignition and the lights and began to Back out of the drive and all I could do was Wave and call “Good-bye! Good-bye!” When you turned into the road, your tail Lights left narrow streaks of red on the Wet pavement and I waved again as you Picked up speed “Good-bye, good-bye” I remember the sound of the water running down The drain from the eaves and the splashing of Other cars as they drove past and I took deep Breaths because the air was fresh and smelled of water And I didn’t want to cry. © Marian Veverka