- Photo by Jane Tawel
By Jane Tawel
April 19, 2023
As I sit here, trying to wake,
I’m still in shock that you are gone.
And all of you is gone,
and you and you and you are truly gone.
Oh, the missing of you is a beating stone,
a beating stone within my chest.
The tears still rise like foreign tides
moved by a grieving moon, adrift without her sun.
I hold the remembrances of you close to me,
clutching them like a tattered blanket, full of holes,
unable to use even your memories
to keep me warm in these cold blistering times.
Each day I sleep-walk through the now,
the past, a figment tiptoeing just behind.
Until, at night, I lie in bed
and wrap myself in my arms,
imagining you are with me still,
as near as a whisper.
I let my pillow dry my tears
and wait in hope,
to dream of you.
© Jane Tawel, 2023
2 thoughts on “Missing You”
death may break
harried at the sake
of two and one
side by side
Jane, there’s beauty in this grief and sorrow. You have such a beautiful way with words. Prayers and peace my dear friend. Love, Karla 💕✝️