Over leftover casserole dishes
Scattered "thank you forcomings"
float around our heads
And promises to stay in touch
Aremeaninglessly thrown out
They stand on the porch
Waving, smiling their lastgood-byes
When someone's voice breaks through
"Call me when you getthere"
Eyes connect and hearts unite
For it is understood
Theywonder if you arrive safely
Question if you are happy
They miss yourconstant presence and
Look forward to your letters, phone calls.
So whenyou shut the car door
You begin to also understand
The rarity of beingcared for
The intensity behind their gaze
Without question youconclude
Your immediate action upon entering
The home you left themfor
Will be dialing.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.