One More Gone

I can look across the street at one of our regular residents who is not going anywhere, as she dives and spins into the wind.

One more gone

We chatted in the grocery store,
I was expecting to share neighborhood news,
they’ve been neighbors for awhile now,
not going anywhere, garden well established,
you know, one of the regulars.
They’re moving out next week.
I wonder why it bothers me anymore,
why I get attached to what is so transient,
human connections which I rely on
for a sense of rootedness, when I know
there is really only what is within yourself,
or, if you’re lucky, with a few other close
friends or family. Stephen says people
come and go, but does no one else
grieve from the loss of all those who
have been part of our lives, all of us
knowing that we will not see each,
in spite of what everyone wants to
believe in that moment of parting.