Casualties of the Adventure

It is the time for the adventure!
Who will join?
If you have heard the whisper at night
Or felt the changing wind on your neck
Then you know,
And when you know,
You must
Go.

Crumpled October leaves preserved in the nightstand books
Vintage Schwinn bikes, one red, one blue
A worn bench, the one that has heard and kept most of my secrets
The faces, not voices, of everyone known and loved
These are the things I left behind.

World’s softest beige sweater that protects me like a cocoon
A box of push-pinned pictures and teary cards
Floppy baseball mitt that earned glory and regret
A superfluous fedora, embodying the gumshion of a silent film starlet
These are the things I brought.

And now that I am here,
And that haunting whisper has hushed for now
And I wear the familiar sweater and think the familiar thoughts
I realize
Now is the time for the adventure!
And I still ask
Who will join?

I realize
He never heard the whisper.
He never felt the wind.
And then I knew.
And when you know,
You must
Go.