April 7, 2010 prompt: getting away

you think these are tears
a cluster of stars weighing
on my eyes

but in fact

they are numbers clicks
on the odometer, miles
between where I was
and where I’m going

similarly

they slide in and out
of sight like an eye
opening and closing

all in all

and I keep going
the chimes of the clock
their insistent bong time
moves forward

without doubt

this momentum has nothing
to do with you only
with what’s ahead

so

and how I have to move
so that history can
begin to write memory