Archive 12/01/10 - (2)

 

   

In Spirit

                                                                  

How is it that my nearly-two-week visit with you, Linda,

Could disappear so swiftly, into thin mist,

Without so much as whispering a parting kiss,

Reiterating, as they put closure to, my final words —

"I'm really going to miss you."

 

Sitting here, in this transit-camp airport,

Tasting disconsolateness, afterglow, tinges of sorrow,

In sips of acidic, kiosk-vended coffee,

I listen, amidst ubiquitous cell-phone disclosures,

For the slightest evocation of your voice.

 

Suddenly, I hear your presence addressing my sadness,

Possessing me, with comforting recognition —

"But isn't it nice to have someone to miss,

Someone who misses you, too, misses you so much,

She's going to fly home with you, in spirit?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                               

12/01/10 - (2)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 

 
   
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