Going Back

There was no time to gather up clothes or toys.
There were never many of either anyway.

when we left

Many times there was a pistol.
Usually there were bruises.
Often it was night.
Once in a storm.

It was chaos when we left,
from the outside looking in,
but we knew our cues.
Right after the fists,
just before the gunshots,
during the screaming.

then we left

Mostly to Tommie’s house.
Sometimes to Sherry’s house.
Once to Doris Sartain’s house
in a storm.

after we left

Morning would come
Breakfast was had
Coffee was poured
Nothing was said
The ground would dry up
Daddy would show up

we'd go back

Cross my fingers
pray to God
plead to stay
come the day
we’d go back

There was no time to gather up joy or hope.
There was never much of either anyway.