Tess

Now, now I understand
why you left all your things--in the hallway,
and abandoned your car in a stand of pines
to pass through the halls
of accumulated sentiment, to where
the light slants through the trees
in the thin mountain air,
--the rich sent of the sea, weaving
through the branches,
I have set down my memories,
--I expected to see you
outside, because you always
return--when I leave
--but I lean on the doorway
and find I'm staring
at the path you took, clear and
leading through the dry leaves
to the shore and the skyline
above it--we could talk
if I see you again.

I will leave a note for myself
and will not
look for you in this house again.