Good Luck

September 25, 2008
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“Good luck,” I smiled as I watched the flight attendant check your ticket.
You thanked me and I followed you down the stairs to your awaiting airplane.
“Good luck,” I said to you as you stepped on board.
You turned, nodded, and ducked away through the narrow door.
“Good luck,” I repeated, hoping you would hear me.
You maneuvered around in the crowded entryway and stared back at me.
“Good luck,” I whispered, although you could not heed me due to the roaring engine.
Since you were the last to take your seat, the pilot waved me away and slammed the door.
Small flaps on the wings rose and I saw you staring at me through a tiny window towards the back.
“Good luck,” I choked, holding back threatening tears.
The wheels squeaked and turned, pulling you away from sight.
I sat on the pavement, rested my chin in my hands and thought.
I will miss you. And I wonder what your new life will be like in the city.
You left me and now I have to fight for myself, survive alone.

I realized, then, that I would need the luck more than you.

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