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