Melissa in the mirror,
small as she appears,
is larger than that
in real life despite
any grandiose scheme
of silver and glass
to reduce her.
I watch her as
I pull away
in the rear-view,
and notice through tears
that she’s crying,
despite the brave wave.
I will miss you
I think then say out loud
then scream till I strain
at the turn when she’s gone,
and I pray she’s not doing
the same.
© Chagall 2014

