I’m Missing

some buttons off my old winter coat. It doesn’t
keep me warm any longer because it won’t close
all the way. I’m missing the cap off my toothpaste. It’s dried

at the top, and  hard to squeeze out these days. I missing
my keys again. I can’t drive the car. So I can’t get to the supermarket. I’m missing my best friend. She hasn’t called for

weeks. Wonder what she’s doing. I’m missing all the things I used to do with my son when he was young, like going sledding
after a snow storm and building forts from blankets

and pillows, gorging ourselves on Halloween candy and watching cartoons on a winter’s afternoon. I’m missing my father something awful. It’s been fifteen years since his death. Cancer

took  him real quick. I still haven’t gotten over it. Sometimes I feel like I’m missing me, parts of myself that I gave to others, parts I’ll never recover. That’s before I got burned, before life taught me

some cruel lessons, before I fell in love and got my heart
broken. But what I’m missing most of all is the chance to do it over again in a different way, knowing what I’ve learned today.