The sun has risen
for you, crumpled sheets litter
the ground you once stood.
To say I miss you,
that I would take it all back,
wouldn’t work, you’re gone.
Last year he came back on my birthday, which is when the days began to shorten, Autumn. Now we are in the optimistic upswing of the year, Spring, when the sunlight lengthens the days and brightens my mood. Right now, I am missing him.
(He’s not really gone this time for good, at least I hope not.)