Today
PATRICIA PIERCE
Today is one of those days
I trek to your final spot,
Near the bend in the highway,
Where the curb and the light pole
Show their chipped scars.
I lay my head on your hand-hewn cross.
My fingers dig into the moist soil,
Not able to forget the night of your death,
Nearby sprigs of green soak in my sobs.
I flip through Harley magazines
That show black leather and tell stories,
Allow pictures and captions to blur into memories of you.
Today is one of those days
I feel the familiar flush of love and loss.
Today is one of those days I miss you all over again.