Most days I'm ok.
I get up in the morning
Happy to go to work.
I eat my lunch under the pine trees
With a little lizard I've named Bob.
I get home at night and throw on
Smooth bluegrass while I make dinner.
I've got my routine and hardly vary.
But on the days that stray
From my habitual cadence
I also find my thoughts wander to you.
And even though you've been gone
For some time now, and we've both moved on,
I can't deny the existence
Of that small hole in my heart
You left behind.
And I wonder,

*Do you have one too?