The return happened
    while I was still working.

Mari and Brandon showed up,
           scooped Coal up,

     and Mr C handled the reunion
     exactly as a good dog should:
                       completely,
                      immediately,
           without making anybody
          explain a fucking thing.

They stayed for a beer,
     long enough for arrival to become a visit
     before the green leash carried Coal out the door

     and toward his own couch.

Ava had made it home, too,
    back with Bubbles
    after Atlanta finally remembered

    what airplanes were for.

Orca and I
     returned to Irby’s,
     which counted as home
     because home had never been

     especially strict about walls.

The weekend was over now,
    but it still glowed around us:
           soccer filling screens,
            dogs becoming friends,
                Ava learning code,

        and all that missing Mari
           I had kept busy enough
                 to carry quietly.

There was nothing left
         to coordinate.

No flight to track,
   no extra dog to account for,
   no weather deciding

   where everybody belonged.

Everyone was home now,
              even me,
            even here,
          yet somehow…

          the missing came home, too.