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.