A Goodbye

A Goodbye 

Squeezed behind the wheel
of his well-used compact
he backed out of the drive
of the only home
he'd ever known,
using side mirrors
because his belongings
piled in the backseat  
blocked the view.

As he put the car in drive
to pull away, he waved
to his newly-widowed mother
as she stood on the front step
with tears held back, hand waving,
mouth smiling against its will.

And off he drove 
to his first job,
and back she turned
to pat the dog's head
and begin her own adventure—
living alone for the first time
in her life.

**********
by Lori Lipsky