the inclination to turn back one more time.
the feeling right before i stop waving. your smile
before you turn around. a satisfaction. a last stitch
in repairing the seam of your navy dress pants,
or favorite green sweater. sealing a letter
once the flap is wet, and i’ve made its adhesive
sticky with my tongue. the dropping of that letter
into the rusting post-office box. the sip of wine
i’ve saved for the last pink bite of steak. the final
dark silt in the french press that becomes
the thickest coffee. starting the engine,
backing up, then moving forward, but still
checking the rearview mirror for you.
we put the “good” in “goodbye.” by Alison Lubar | Poetry Reed Diffuser Set
Alison Lubar is the author of two full-length poetry books, The Other Tree, winner of Harbor Editions’ 2023 Laureate Prize, and METAMOURPHOSIS (fifth wheel press, 2024), as well as four chapbooks, Philosophers Know Nothing About Love (Thirty West, 2022), queer feast (Bottlecap Press, 2022), sweet euphemism (Mouthfeel Press, 2023), and It Skips a Generation (Stanchion, 2023), and a forthcoming microchap, American Kintsugi (Bull City Press, 2026). The poem, “we put the good in ‘goodbye.’” originally appeared with diode poetry journal volume 18 number 2. Find out more at http://www.alisonlubar.com/.
