Powerless

Should I have mentioned
how soft sad your eyes looked
that evening, like you’d been scalded:
a small dog guilty of some human
transgression you didn’t understand yet?

You carried yourself like you were hurt,
but hiding it; you were hiding in yourself.
I could have found you, if I had asked,
but there was no hint that you wanted me to.

You smiled and chatted, but inside
you were a shadow, made larger
because the light behind you is bright
enough to remember, but far enough
away to remain unreachable.

You were not happy, and I,
quietly pushing you along,
was powerless to comment,
powerless to save you at all.