The Way I See It.

THE WAY I SEE IT

   You come back to pack up a few last things
   before you settle in D.C. for good.
   The bell sounds, voices call, your cell phone rings.
   If anyone would answer them, you would.
   Instead, you find me waiting, lonely, there,
   between the stair and foyer, I would bet,
   and sliding fingers through your thick black hair,
   you neither turn, neglect me, nor forget,
   but with the calm precaution of a prince
   witnessing kin and kingdom go to sea,
   you tell me of the melancholy, wince,
   and say you've found brief confidence in me,
   putting me, for one brilliant trice, above
   insistence, time, and everything you love.

--JENNIFER REESER