One night in mid-October
it was time for me to go.
So I packed all my things in a big brown bag
and promised I’d say hello;
promised I’d write a letter each night
if only for promise’s sake,
and that I would think of you well and often
think of you each time I saw the dawn break.
But if I had a penny
for every time you told me, “stay”,
I still couldn’t buy back the soft sighs you make
that fill up the slow sultry hours of regret
in the morning before we awake.
And I couldn’t replace all the lost melodies
that surely will my heart break;
for when I think of you
my head grows soft as if born anew
from some place of sorrow, from whence I was
feverish with hurt, with love for you.
Your big-mouthed laugh! Your grin! Perhaps
it’s high time that I forgot, by now
for pain held onto by one for so long
will just bring more pain, and will all hope forsake.
Yes, this weary traveler’s soul has now seen
wonders, both old and new,
but nothing I have seen as of late
haunts me more than you do.
Acorn tree leaves and dandelion spades
and the moon hanging clear big and blue,
none complete me more than you;
no, none complete me more than you.
it was time for me to go.
So I packed all my things in a big brown bag
and promised I’d say hello;
promised I’d write a letter each night
if only for promise’s sake,
and that I would think of you well and often
think of you each time I saw the dawn break.
But if I had a penny
for every time you told me, “stay”,
I still couldn’t buy back the soft sighs you make
that fill up the slow sultry hours of regret
in the morning before we awake.
And I couldn’t replace all the lost melodies
that surely will my heart break;
for when I think of you
my head grows soft as if born anew
from some place of sorrow, from whence I was
feverish with hurt, with love for you.
Your big-mouthed laugh! Your grin! Perhaps
it’s high time that I forgot, by now
for pain held onto by one for so long
will just bring more pain, and will all hope forsake.
Yes, this weary traveler’s soul has now seen
wonders, both old and new,
but nothing I have seen as of late
haunts me more than you do.
Acorn tree leaves and dandelion spades
and the moon hanging clear big and blue,
none complete me more than you;
no, none complete me more than you.
Sadie Benjamin is an author and high school student from the suburbs of Chicago. Her work has been published in YouthBeHeard magazine and is forthcoming in The Dawn Review, and she is currently an editor at The Stirling Review. She is an alumnus of the Iowa Young Writers' Studio as well as several other programs for young writers, and her work has been recognized by the Scholastic Art and Writing awards, among others. She can usually be found drinking a cup of tea or listening to classic rock (usually both).