2:15 PM Roma Street Sunday Afternoon 1996

The three of you
waving your brave little hands,
smiling love and mischief at me
through the tinted glass
of the big green bus.

I’m standing tight to the kerb
screaming at the concrete
as I smile
waving back with gusto.
I love you
mouthed in silence
have I failed you

a silent question.

I wave until you’ve turned the corner –
gone in a juggernaut like
stolen children;
the street where we laughed
only a minute ago
now more empty than a new coffin.

I walk back to the car knowing we will go through this
again and again
– every time you visit for the weekend.