Let Go

I trip along the road to her house.
There’s no sidewalk here, never has been.
We used to hold hands along this way,
it’s dangerous,
support each other to keep from falling,
even though we were in that phase
where palms sweat excitement,
we never let go.
I can’t keep up.
She walks alone well.
The sun turns blood red,
drops down beyond Pearl Harbor.
By the time her gate shuts, it’s dark,
I die.