a pilgrimage

I arrived late. The train had left the station.
The moment I realized I lost a fortune
Driving home is like  weaving baskets underwater.

I can hear the sounds of her absence
In the kitchen, in music, the zest
Of activities I’m now missing.

Nuances of misunderstanding are slivers
Under the fingernails that became forever
A word missed, engagements broken.

“To crave and to have are as like as a thing and its shadow”
My heart feels a strong ocean undertow,
A longing I’ll always have to grasp.

To bring her back will be a pilgrimage
A true pilgrim with an offering, an homage
Not of devotion but faithfulness.

note: the quotation is from Marilynn Robinson’s Housekeeping.The poem is my first attempt, maybe a crude one, of a rhyme poem.

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