Poem 21
This one is probably not ready, but a promise is a promise.
Oh God, I miss you
Can I miss something that doesn’t exist?
Like I missed George and Kramer
When Seinfeld went off the air?
Is this heart-hole some holy proof?
Philosophy makes me queasy–I just miss you
I feel it heavy this morning.
I thought I could always come back
I could walk away for a thousand miles and turn around
to see you sneaking along behind
Always with me
I cannot feel your breath on my neck and
I cannot hear you foot steps.
There are no footprints in the sand
So when did you turn back?
I have so many questions now
I put you in my back pocket before I set out,
Rare chocolate that melted somewhere along the way
You were always a shoreline
Unmovable and tideless
I could swim back to any day I wanted
If I had wanted
I cannot see the land any more
The lake is an ocean
I’m not sure I remember how to swim
I have become afraid of water
Living water
That’s what you offered me
I started drinking since then
I bought a new Bible last summer,
Then lost it a month later
I am always losing things between the cracks of my busywork
I thought I was the one who was
supposed to be lost–
not you
Where in the hell are you?
Every day is Holy Saturday
A promise barely visible through the fog of loss
Oh God, I miss you
Photo by Luciano Ribas on Unsplash