Gone
You’re not there; I haven’t heard you for a while.
It’s been ages since we sat outside your door; faces tilted for the sun.
When did we last share a bag of chips?
I can’t remember the last time I waited on the other end of the phone,
while you rattled and clattered to put it down at your end.
I want to hear you laugh.
You understood, you got it. We could talk.
But you’re not there are you?
You are gone.
I will never hear you again.
But I leave your number in my phone, your address in my book.
