Missing the one who is missing
Is a way of finding him and also
A way of keeping him, a way of
Not losing him even if I know he
Is missing, gone, and I lost him
On that winter day, not a wintry
Day, actually unseasonable for
The date, a day in winter, at the
End of February, the day he had
Passed from being by my side to
A state of memory and recall, a
Memory at every turn, always on
Call, but no longer here, missing
Tag Archives: #remembrance
What we’ve seen
Observations, we've all made
Them, they're subtler than a
Whisper of disapproval or the
Mention of a disappointment.
Quiet thoughts, barely thought
Tucked away, secreted deep in
A dark corner of memory. You
Will know it as a fact. His mom
She was just like that, you will
Blurt it out, no malice, and no
Criticism, you resent neither
One of them for it's just how
They were, are in memory, and
In your observation. There's
No whisper of discontent on
Your mind, no disfavor to put
A pall over your thinking and
Hold you fast. And hard, in a
Strange place, booing ghosts.
Damned, Amen!
Not believing in heaven nor hell
I am the one who comforts and
Consoles. Fear of eternal [mind
You] damnation does not stir in
My mind or heart. You have to
Believe to care about that. And to
Fear it as she did. Worry for my
Soul upset this dear sweet little
Innocent. I say religion be damned.
It separates and offers damn near
Nothing in return. Threats or lies
That unbind the ties we made,
That undermine love, friendship.
Damn near nothing in return to
Feed the soul or heal the spirit.
There should be comfort in belief.
It should refresh and bolster us,
Not damn us to such trepidations.
Trauma and fear do not console.
How many ways
How many ways can we say it?
If it is missed and lost forever
Is it really lost if we mourn it?
We remember that it is missing
So all we have lost is not gone.
It is commemorated, cherished
And ever present in our past. It
Is intricately connected to who
We are now. Nothing is gone so
Long as our hearts recall the loss.
How many ways can I say I miss us?
The loss is real, I can feel it, but
You are not lost. I find you every
Day. I remember love and warmth
And caring. I cherish who we are
While I remember who we were.
How many ways can my heart
Break and still be full with hope
And promise? Love is resilient.
How many ways can we say it?
How many ways do I remember?
We are ever present in our past.
I can say that and all is not lost.
Like pearls
I string words that I hope
Are as wise and even or as
Uneven as pearls. They can
Shine white and iridescent
Round or fragmented as any
Sentence I have ever written.
Telling my story or sentiment
I hope as well as the perfect
Pearls the Pacific yields or the
Little bitty ones my mother
Once had before she got a
Beautiful blue gray strand.
That was a show off necklace
But me, I so admired those
Ones that looked like hen's
Teeth, laying simply and
Easily against her sweater
Tamara, really 