First Taste of It

by Robert Tremmel

This morning, you left
without saying goodbye.

The first time.

I heard the front door
close, then the garage--

although it is only
August the leaves
on the ash tree
in the front yard
are already
turning yellow
we had granola
for breakfast blueberries
and tea well I had tea
you did not
beetles are stacked
two and three deep
screwing on the roses
I was worried
about the beetles
you were not
soon children 
will be walking by
to school some
for the first time
I will worry 
about them too
and the blueberries
how long can they last 
over on First Street
heading east
it was only yesterday
I made pickles more jars 
are in the dishwasher--

and then the tires 
bearing more than the weight 
of your car, rolling 
silently into the street.

Robert Tremmel lives and writes in Ankeny, Iowa. He’s published poems and academic articles in a wide range of journals, and has published five collections of poetry, including The Records of Kosho the Toad (Bottom Dog Press, 2018). His most recent collection is The Return of the Naked Man (Brick Road Poetry Press, 2021), which won the Brick Road Poetry Prize.