KITH AND KIN, VOLANT

Felicia and Will drove up San Pablo Avenue.

"I'll be fine," came his lame famous last words

Stricken, a bit, as she pulled up to the station.

She was too adult to say much

Beyond muttering, "Your left or mine, Dr. Eichelberger?"

As if to clarify what was meant

By a monster. There was time

To get to New York, 3,000 miles

To the East. (Bon voyage,

And may the wind be at your back.

And may the ground rise to meet you

On your way. Don't delay. Amen.)

[NOTE: This poem has a California setting, tying the Equitable Building here back to my previous cycle of poetry at The Manzanita. For years, I considered myself a regional poet in my native northern California. A variety of reasons, including but not limited to attempts to kill me, as well as sustained harassment and stalking by parties I wouldn't have expected to cross state lines. Hence my flight ✈️ to New York in 2018. From here I look back in nostalgia and homesickness...]