IN PASSING BY DAVID STALLINGS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 12
My young self drives an old Volvo
up Fourth Avenue for the first time,
just below Yesler overpass
near where I work.
He has left his Colorado home forever,
bound for graduate school in Seattle.
I will hail him as I often do,
reach for words
of confidence
and fathering he has long
missed.
But not today.
Fuck it.
I am old and lonely.
This time, it is he who smiles first—
then drives on,
not looking back.