You look longingly out the window
and wait at the door
Impatiently searching out
the one who knew you first
You’ve worn a path in front of the fireplace,
sometimes stopping as if to warm yourself
But you know I don’t light fires in March
The first days of spring are meant for open windows
and airing things out, not stoking old flames
I tried to teach you something new,
to show you there is more
I tried to help you remember what’s worth remembering,
and forget all the regretful things that transpired before
But thoughts of an overgrown garden and rhubarb pie
have taken you miles away
So I bide my time with laundry and planting pansies
I stop digging when I hear your heavy sigh through the screen door
Even before the sighs, and the pacing, it was your eyes that gave you away
Looking ever north, to the day I’ll drive you home
to the one that holds your true heart
The one that loved you first