I grew from your departures.
I was 11 when you left the house,
13 when you left the country,
16 when you left my life.
Or so I thought.
Then at each transition,
I longed to have you there,
To be proud
Of the child you left behind.
Perhaps, you would take me home again.
Now, the departures
Outnumber the returns.
When I was younger,
Your return was my salvation.
Older now, I feel abandoned by my god.
© 1996 Edward P. Morgan III
