| That fateful night there was no one in the house but her and me. We were eating jelly sandwiches and watching the 10:00 news when a truck crashed through the wall and hit her in the left hip pocket. I was jarred loose from my sandwich and out on my own. She was gone, but not forgotten. I cried that night and all the next day, and I went to her funeral in the park. I was the only one there, but I didn’t care, because I was the only one invited. As I parted with her I felt really bad, and then I felt better because I knew she felt just as bad. |
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| Poemission |
| Parting |