Where this road goes, I’ll never know;
like water there is no end.
She walked ahead, her dress a flag waving in the wind,
the road a grey stripe in a green scarf,
heavy woolen clouds above us.
She walked between the rags of sky
that littered the road to the bend, the last sight of her
before she was gone into her future.
And, just like that, we saw her childhood end
and turned back to our emptier house.
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