that you died. Your wide-brimmed smile
lit up the page of the obituaries. You were a lone
star with no beneficiaries.  It couldn’t
be death that cast a shadow on you, a man so robust

and out of the blue. Where are you going? I hadn’t
a chance to say what I needed. You left
in a rush. I would have pleaded for you stay. You weren’t
ready. Your coffee was warm, and the lights were

still on. You were expecting someone. You
wouldn’t have let them down by going out when
they came into town just to see you. I written you
letters in my head. Where do I send them? You didn’t leave

a forwarding address. And wherever
you are can you have visitors? I was thinking I’d might like
to come. Some days that feeling is very strong. I don’t belong
here without you. Wherever you are I want to go there too.