Member-only story
Missing You
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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
