I faced him today,
brown eyes that I thought had vanished.
He reappeared and stopped up the words in my throat.
I did not know how to breathe
or what to do
and so I let the moment pass.
He passed me by and walked out the door
leaving me hollow
leaving my heart sore.
I miss him and it hurts.
My poetry is flat,
my heart is weak–
but at least I now know he is safe.
It is bittersweet, more bitter than sweet.
His eyes still haunt me now
I had to look away.
Still, the best present of this day
was hidden beneath that bitterness of watching him walk away,
bright Rudolph lead the sleigh!
” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”