Fourth Edit: Hometown

[Richard]

Hometown

I
It was best to go while you were asleep.
The moonlight tried to give me solace,
but its pale arms failed to reach me.

I even stopped to reminiscence
about the day I decided to leave:
so humid, sitting, realizing
that I couldn't make a living
by rereading my resume on a park bench;
my last ten dollar bill stuck
in my pocket like an unsent love letter-
“Don't look back,” my mother used to say.
I was never a good listener.

II
For a time, it felt as if I  wandered away
out of curiosity only to find a softer deathbed.
I imagined you might have felt the same.

When I returned, it was like you hadn't noticed
I was gone, so I began to hate you.

Third Edit:

I
I'm sorry,
it was best to leave while you were asleep.

The moonlight tried to give me solace,
but its pale arms failed to touch me.
I even stopped,
surrounded by darkness,
that in front me, my future,
that behind me, my feelings
for having to abandon you the way I did.
“Don't look back,” my mother used to say.
For once, I listened.

II
For the first year, I felt like your pet,
who wandered away to find its deathbed.
I imagined you felt the same.

When I returned,
you looked more beautiful then before I left;
this is when I began to hate you.

Second Edit:

I
I'm sorry,
it was best to leave while you were asleep.

The moonlight tried to give me solace,
but its pail arms failed to touch me.
I even stopped,
surrounded by darkness,
that in front me me, my future,
that behind me, my feelings
for having to abandon you they way I did.
“Don't look back,” my mother used to say.
For once, I listened.

II
For the first year, I felt like your pet,
who wandered away to find its deathbed.
I imagined you felt the same.

When I returned,
you looked more beautiful then before I left;
this is when I began hating you.


First Edit:

I
The moonlight tried to give me solace.
The transparent clouds knew my intention
as I paused and pretended to ponder
a decision I'd already made.

I thought of that day last summer,
of how my Résumé was stuck in my hand
like an unwanted love letter,
of how it was best to leave while you were asleep.

II
After retirement, I returned.
You seemed more beautiful than before,
and this made me hate you worse.

Original:
I
I had to leave while you were asleep.
I'm sorry it had to be that way.

The moonlight was translucent solace,
the dark sky didn't judge
as I pretended to decide on
a decision I'd already made.
I remembered walking home that last day,
your pavement hot and cracked
like a young lover's promise.

II
After almost a year, I returned.
You seemed more beautiful than before,
and this made me hate you worse.