The hardest thing
To face is
That you’re not
Not going to
Be not going
To have not
Going to keep
And not going
To get so
What do you
Do with a
Life that is
Missing things you
Sit and you
Count your blessings
For all of
The marvelous things
That you do
Have did and
Loved and you
Allow those memories
To fly freely
Oh how I wish
That we lived in
A perfect world a
World filled with happiness
And joy and peace
But we simply don’t
Rather we live in
A world of despair
Of heartbreak and heartache
Of loneliness and abandonment
Our real job therefore
Is as simple as
That single beach child
Creating a world with
Shovels buckets and sand
Know what I miss
What I miss most
Now please don’t laugh
Because this thing that
I miss is personal
What I miss most
Is your breathing specifically
Your breathing as it
Changes from awake to
Sleeping for you see
In that precise moment
When in and out
Changes to aaah mmmm
I know that then
You are in the
Arms of dream angels
I finally do
I admit it
I’ve often been
This way before
With different incarnations
The same boulevard
But different buildings
This street ends
Just over there
As it always
Has and then
I live in a
Little world of words
A tidy little place
Where words swirl about
Like snowflakes dancing until
Plucked and put giving
Meaning to me you
And whosoever shall write
Read know and adore
If there is one
Place I wish to
Go it is here
To my tidy little
World of my words
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 