One Way or Another
She is gone, where did she go?
He can’t imagine how the house will feel
when he enters it, moving room to room.
Now that the wait is over, a larger pause
will blanket the roof, softness settling
slowly down. By which window or door
may future days enter? And what about minor
questions called out, to which there was always
that lilting reply?
Copyright © by Naomi Shihab Nye. Used with the permission of the author.