Hollow Like a Chocolate Bunny

On the way to her mom and dad’s

Riding backward on the train

She starts to get nervous

She gets like this whenever she goes home

Talk to me, I say, but turns her back

Shipyards flying by in the rain

You know he won’t be there, I want to say

He’s been dead for fourteen years

Pulling back as my hand touches her arm

Unconscious memory brings instinct

Old wrecked cars piled high on the left

Slowing without a word sadness fills her face

Helplessness slinks across the seat

I know him and want to kill him, but he’s dead

He still wields power laughing over her mind

Green fields of Winter wheat silently

Wanting to love those sad green eyes

Closed and no love can enter

They say she’s a strong woman

2010 (c) Dayvid Graybill