When Those You Love Live Far Away

You are standing alone in the doorway

as they back out of the driveway,

everyone waving except the driver

who needs to think about where they’re going.

Now the house feels like you hosted a wake.

They promised to teach you to Skype, but it’s

hard to embrace their wavering faces,

which seem as unreliable as the Hereafter.

You did not share the pain their absence makes

or your dubious faith in the law

of object permanence--your fear

that when you can’t see them they don’t exist.