The coffee machine hums its old refrain,
A comfort in the morning light, and then the pain
Of words I've practiced, quiet, on my tongue,
"It's time for something new," the hopeful song I've sung.
I see their faces, a sudden, softened hue,
A shared goodbye in eyes of brown and blue.
The easy laughter falters, then falls still,
A silent moment on this ordinary hill.
They speak of projects we had yet to start,
Of inside jokes that feel now set apart.
They say my name and linger on the sound,
As if the leaving pulls up sacred ground.
Their hands reach out, a pat upon my back,
A gentle sadness, like a coming lack.
"We'll miss you here," they say with heavy grace,
And "It won't be the same," around this place.
But even as the sorrow hangs so near,
A different feeling conquers every fear.
A new horizon calls, a vibrant, burning gleam,
The final chapter of a waking dream.
I hug them tight, each one, and promise more,
To stay in touch, to knock upon their door.
And though I'm leaving, with a heavy heart,
I know this new beginning is the perfect start.
