They come and go and go again

It seems to be the time of moving, late summer, early fall.   Erik and Naomi stopped on their way from Baltimore to Minneapolis.  Naomi starts grad school in a couple weeks.  Erik will find a job.  They stopped  long enough to eat dinner, talk a little, sleep and go again.  We left the dishes, staked the cactus, watched them go, waved them on.  We will wave them back anytime.

I am reminded:

They come and go

And go again.

Arrive for dinner,

Leave before breakfast.

Dishes left in the sink

Sheets now folded

In the living room.

They come and go

And go again.

Rescued from the back of the truck:

The cactus,

Staked with pencils and string,

Will travel in front.

They come and go

And go again.

Of course they do.

The cactus is now

In the front seat

Staked and stringed

Safer there.

They come and go

And go again.

Of course.