“I knew something as I watched: almost everyone was saying goodbye to me.
I was becoming one of the many little-girl-losts.
They would go back to their homes and put me to rest,
a letter from the past never to be reopened or reread.
And I could say goodbye to them, wish them well,
bless them somehow for their good thoughts.
A handshake in the street,
a dropped item picked up and retrieved and handed back,
or a friendly wave from the distant window, a nod, a smile,
a moment when the eyes lock over the antics of a child.”
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