Death was casual, like a door opening

and you going in. Too casual, I guess.

I still wait for your return.

I have things to say to you.

I have things to show you,

new music, books.

My children are grown up,

I have grandchildren now.

You wouldn’t even recognize me,

you would think I was my mother

(who is thankfully dead).

You have missed so many years

and I still can’t grasp the

finality. I wait for your footstep

outside my door here in a

house you never saw, in

a city where you’ve never been.

You’ll jump out from behind a tree

and say “fooled you!”

and we’ll all laugh.

by Cher Bibler