(This week the Humor and Satire section is giving pause to reflect on the pain and fear caused by Trump’s election)
You have died
You
Who wakes me up gently by the sliver of warmth
that embraces me
Before falling back into the world
You who walks beside me
the clicks on the ground were reliable
You were a good walker, never too far behind or ahead
with one hand always on my shoulder
I’ll miss the dinners we had
whether the two of us or with many others
sometimes we defended us, others we celebrated
either way
I was whole because of it
Safe
You who have never left my mind have died
I am awaken, but this time by falling
I walk the same path but the silence is
jarring
at dinner, brunch, and every other minute
I breathe
I try to remember your sound, space
that you were indeed once well
Maybe one day you’ll come back
to wrap me in security and reaffirm my self
but until then I walk
trying to fill the silence
I breathe doubly, heavy
and each moment I both try to forget you and remember you,
you who has died