Stranger Danger

Side by side

forward we ride

both looking ahead

these chairs as our bed.

What's your name? 

We've never met.

Still I can smell

your armpit sweat.

Our shoulders brush, 

are you aware?

I can feel

your arm hair.

Sitting there 

in your bootcut jeans

staring at 

your movie screen.

Your headphones on, 

my earplugs in, 

I wonder what 

this could have been. 

You gaze at me

as if to say,

"You're a creeper;

go away." 

Our eyes meet.

Our hearts 

beat.

Don't look away!

Don't turn your gaze.

Stay, please stay,

don't go away. 

For "stranger danger" 's

just a phrase 

used by those 

too scared to say,

"Hello, I love you. 

What's your name?"

But your eyes avert

back to your screen

and my heart wonders

what this all means.

Now reading back

through my poetry

all becomes clear,

and now I see

the dangerous stranger they speak of

is me.

leaving home

why
must we say goodbye
my heart was not made for this
my heart is not
ready-or-not, time's up.
pack up.
backpack on and you're gone
fly away
you can't stay
for this place you've called home
was never the destination
but a stop along the way
and whanau doesn't say goodbye
for there's always a next time.
the book isn't closing,
but this chapter is gone
so cherish the moment
for moments don't last long
and, as they say, time flies
joy-filled smiles become tear-filled eyes
and at the end of every long hello
is a bitter, short
goodbye