owls

As your dad drove away
with you in the backseat
You waved to me
and turned your head
like an owl
facing ahead
but looking back

A reverse greeting far removed
from the childhood
wonder
we were meant to feel

I never saw you again
after that
except in photos on
old microfiche

To remember you
I would have to drag
myself to the library
and wait my turn

Trying to recall how
or why we met
or how long I sat at your desk
after lunch
shaping my sadness
like a block of slimy clay
before everyone else arrived
to learn long division