Saturday, February 9, 2019

Absence


I haven't seen Rick here in many days.
With dog walk acquaintances you never know:
He could be gone for good
with his Ivan and his Annie,
or sick,
or just tired of this riverside,
which today is white with cold and silence.
And some of us are seasonal--
off to the golf course for the winter walks
and down to the sea in spring--
but as much as you can miss a man
whose last name you don't know,
I feel the absence of his genial shout
that says to hell with sadness
and all my wretched doubt.

February 9 2019