Porches (a Poem by Cathy Gruman)

Porches
(A poem by Cathy Gruman, 10/2009)

Don’t worry little girl, he’ll be back soon, said the neighbor who saw her standing on the porch as she waited for her father to come home.
Looking for his car to drive up the driveway like he used to, she wanted him to come home for dinner.
"Oh!" Her eyes widen then drop when she sees it’s not him, pulling up in the driveway, jumping out in his slacks and white shirt, leather shoes and tie, to bend down and look in her eyes and say, “Hello precious, I love you. Let’s go inside and have dinner.”
She’ll keep waiting and watching for him to come home.
She, now 30, with her boyfriend, many before him; and he says “I really have to go now. I really have to go.”
“Why, she says, I don’t understand.”
He explains again, this is his last.
“I’ve told you, it’s not working. You’re a lovely girl, but I have to go. It’s over. Please let go.”
“No, she pleads, don’t go.”
“Stop", peeling her fingers off of his wrist, "What do you want from me? You’ll get over it. You will survive.”
He grows angry and she grows weary. She spirals down that void again, this time a little further than before.
“What?", he demands. "What? What do you want from me?”
“He never came,” she says. He never came.
I stood on the porch, and he never came.”