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