Wind shifts your old station wagon’s frame with every gust. 

Its creaks and moans join in refrain with the storm outside your car. 



Why are you here? Why have you come?



You’ve come a long way just to say, “Goodbye.”

You called me from the road. You’d been driving all night.



Well you can pack up your car and you can point it back west

because a promise is a promise and I took you as best. 



Why are you here? Why have you come? Just to leave me