The bus pulled up and they checked the ticket. The last few things we shared carried slung over her shoulder and she turned one last time.
And it wasn’t the whispered good- bye or the tear in her eye. Or the reluctance of one last embrace. It was when the door slammed shut and the knot in my gut followed by thunder and a downpour of rain. I knew in my heart as the greyhound pulled out. I would never see her again.

Rob Thomas