Loss Poem by Robert Melliard

With past lovers, lost but not forgotten,
a figure, face or gesture
reminds us poignantly at times
of their missed beauty, warmth,
or power to give us pleasure.

Now you, my only brother, may be seen
in pubs or shops or streets,
in people who each seem to represent
a part of you: your soft, grey hair,
loose-jointed walk, or bright, sad stare.

But even if these separate traits,
glimpsed at different times, in different places,
could all be put together,
they wouldn't bring you back again,
and when I see them,
I miss you more than ever.