night bus

My father arrives on a night bus, his hat in his hands.
It is May now and the rain is coming down.
Later with the end of this rain
will come the sweet smell of honeysuckle but for now,
there is only the sky opening and my father ’s tears.
I’m sorry, he whispers.

This fight is over for now.

Tomorrow, we will travel as a family
back to Columbus, Ohio,
Hope and Dell fighting for a place
on my father ’s lap. Greenville
with its separate ways growing small
behind us.

For now, my parents stand hugging
in the warm Carolina rain.

No past.

No future.

Just this perfect Now.