It is the season of goodbyes

 Spring 

Sets 

Farewell flowers bloom. 

In every rose a lover’s red

Hiding a mourner’s blue 

It is the season of goodbyes 

But I,

Won’t say goodbye to you. 

Down the path from home to school

Farewells to bid on every turn 

Farewell, to the dogs who bark

stray, throughout the night. 

Farewell to the morning sun

Wrapped in soft nostalgia light. 

Farewell, to the walkway 

That generations have trod

Before us, and more will trod hereafter. 

I can say goodbye

To the smell of seasalt in the air 

Lingering like unwept tears, or 

Unuttered goodbyes.

I can say goodbye

To bazaars of silk and silver,

And roads scuttling like centipedes

Bumping up and down.

I can say goodbye

To concrete paths and sandy fields 

The microphone and stage. 

Goodbye, to stone blocks

And terraces and walls

Although, I said they’d sing of me

Walls are only walls

And blocks are only blocks. 

But you,

It is the season of goodbyes

But I

Won’t say goodbye to you. 

So sew your sinews into mine

And let the inky blackness of your eyes

Be the ink with which I write

Let the echo of your voice 

Remind me what my name is, remind me where I’m from. 

And on this parting day as we gather on the bay

To watch familiar ships float away

Let us pray 

That our heartbeats beat a constant beat

A melody to take us 

To a childhood spent, and a childhood left

In the City By The Sea.