Violet looks at you quizzically,
as if you’re going somewhere.

You gaze at Violet wonderingly,
knowing she’s going many places.

She’ll probably be on the road in minutes,
her shining mane flowing as she catches a ride out of here.

You have no idea where she’ll go next.
She may not either,
but you’re sure adventure’s coming.
A fiddle by her side, leather on her back,
tie-dye in her bag,
the world is hers as long as she wants it.

"Get that look off your face, boy.
I’ll be back in no time," she says.
You doubt you’ll ever see her again.
You hope you’re wrong,
but you don’t think you are.

Violet is too big for your world.

You ask for her autograph,
which makes her snort,
since you’ve known each other
all your lives.

She doesn’t see how serious you are.
You don’t know if you’re experiencing prophecy,
or just being foolish.

She laughs and then scrawls on your pants.
You know you’ll never wear them again.

She’s gone and a part of you is as well.
Obviously.