I miss you
coming in
and out each day;

I miss your quiet
presence as you stood
and thought;

I miss you standing
behind me as I write,
your soft spoken words
as you pointed out
an error in my work.

I miss your being here,
your wandering
from room to room
looking out for food;

that laughter,
that way you had
with wit and humour.

I miss you, my son,
miss the being of you
in my life.

I miss the presence
of you as each day
goes by;

I know you
are there
as I silently cry.

She was the only lighthouse in a roiling sea of black

My rowboat upended
As the waves enveloped my screams

Gasping, reaching
As the foamy pitch swallowed me whole

CLANG mourned the lighthouse
Her yellow beam helplessly revolving

CLANG  *CLANG