Missing You

• Photo by Jane Tawel

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Missing You

By Jane Tawel

April 19, 2023

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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© Jane Tawel, 2023