I repeat it to myself in the night unconscious like a dark
secret
I tell it to the walls
I say it to the angry hurried wind every time it rushes through,
aggressive and violent, flustering me indifferently
I hear it in the noisy empty chatter of people, in the clamor
of my old weary heart
I whisper it to the wise knowing moon when it rises calling
me to the window..
I miss him
