A simple photograph
haunts me now
of some forgotten
man it whispers
here I am
like a cricket
he is calling
come find me
like a squeak
I look everywhere
and under everything
I try closets
pushing away coats
and beneath stairs
no one’s there
does he exist
certain he does
dropping into chair
I trace fingers
across the photograph
my fingers remember
that which my
mind now cannot
Category: Boo
MissMaybe
I miss them all
each one of them
and at night now
I sit in darkness
wondering
I sit in darkness
wondering
when maybe and if
maybe I’ll see another
maybe
I sit in darkness
wondering when maybe where
maybe and if maybe
I will ever stop
missing them like this
wondering
maybe
Hands
I remember your hands
as they held mine
I remember feeling them
sudsy and warm under
the tap as we
washed in the kitchen
I remember noticing them
wind their way through
my hair turning my
face towards your kiss
I remember your hands
slipping free from mine
that last and final
time that we parted
Men
Where’d the men go
Did they march off
to some war of
which I was unaware
Were they beamed up
into some alien craft
and swept far away
to some distant planet
to propagate that place
Where did they go
Being a man meant
something once and not
what so many think
What did it mean
Go ask your fathers
father and his father
and his and his
for men have been
gone for a long
time before yesterday and
even longer than today
And I’m wholly uncertain
if they’ll ever return
having been lost to
war or another place
InVsJust
Learning to love someone
is different than falling
in love with someone
Learning to love someone
involves degrees of tolerance
whereas falling in love
almost always eliminates any
idea that one must
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 