and the sky was mottled grey

clouds crossed the morning sky
running to hurry past the horizon before your mother
realized you were gone.

the squirrels did not wander out to gather
they stayed away tucked inside their tree
chittered nervously and paced.

i thought i heard you whoosh past
footsteps that grew at once very loud and
then faded into nowhere else.

who ever knew you were leaving who
would have thought that you would one day be
never coming home again.