I’ve been meaning to come back, y’know.
But my plates were full and
even having waitressed all through college
I felt like I couldn’t carry much more,
couldn’t pause to examine one closely.
I did make it there once, recently.
It was an hour earlier than before
and when leaving I saw a shape, sitting
a black blob I was too afraid to turn towards,
to see.
I hope you’re okay.
Something of a follow-up, to this previous poem.