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so i have to be honest…

i missed friday and saturday, not because i was lazy, but because i was stuck. stuck in a moment. a memory. a missing-ness. after that post about the first reader i got my mom, and how much i miss her, stuck in my head.

i did write, but i didn’t post. i wrote a poem and, well, i think i should share it. i think feedback would be helpful. my mom always wanted to see my writing in print. i’ve been thinking about that a great deal. i owe it to her, my first reader. so i now have a mission: to try to send a poem out each week.

so here it is, let me know what you think…

You are not home

You are not home.

Still I call,

breath held in anticipation.

I do not expect you to answer, yet

I steel myself to hear your voice.

Forever bright,

encapsulated on the answering

machine I bought you.

An eternal smile in your tone

as you confidently promise

to call me back.

A promise that will remain broken

as I have been for the last 8 years.

Still there is this moment, a time capsule

of one of your last good days.

On my bad days I call, eyes closed,

body still and breath held —

for those 30 wonderful seconds

I am home.

© L. Conquet

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