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For All the Times That Might Have Been the Last Time by Marian Veverka

​
(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 spends her life on the shores of Lake Erie. Poems and “creative non-fiction” pieces published in local & “little” magazines.
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