Ian Beckett (love and life and death and sorrow poems) (8 June 1956 / Dublin)

Halfway across Europe, missing you,
Missing me, forever absent, always near.
Moments of intense closeness, followed by
Absence, more painful than a root canal,
But, the moments together, precious,
Beyond feeling, more intense than
Things, which we fill our lives for
Comfort, an antidote to the
Loneliness, that is part,
Of global living
Today.