GOODBYES, HOW I HATE THEM

she follows the sunset, as if for direction the babe on her back, cranes it's neck hands flailing, trying to wave at me not sure if it's motioning me to follow or attempting to say farewell she does not look back, unlike the child she's fed up maybe, or hopeful hopeful for what is before her nothing left where I stand, seemingly probably she tried her best, but lost for no one leaves a sunrise for sunset I stand motionless, mud cakes my feet the dry sweat caked on my brow the only testament of my efforts to prevent this exodus I seem to have failed for I no longer see the swinging arm these sunsets!