I read the paper, hope for news of you.
Check the classifieds and comics with care
to find not one word, one mention, of you.
Now the obits come last, but you're not there.
Without a care I run my hand across
the page where, with words, silence rules supreme.
With no news of you I sleep and I dream.
Tuesday, January 8, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: alone,despair,dreams