Willey's poem looks back on a farewell that was never spoken aloud. The speaker watches someone leave, catches a tear on their cheek, and holds their last smile like a soap bubble: beautiful, but about to vanish. Afterward the speaker stirs the salt from that tear into a cup of tea and drinks the memory, an image that turns grief into a small, private ritual.
The feeling is tender and quietly sad. The speaker sits still, reads the tea leaves, and listens to the "silent" absence, as if waiting for a sign that things might change. The line "Better strong than beautiful" suggests the speaker feels inadequate, "neither" of those things. By the end, the speaker admits they may never dance with this person again. The footprints outside are gone, and only "impressions" remain, the way the memory lingers in the mind. The mood is hushed, wistful, and gently resigned rather than angry.