… no, it’s more impossibly difficult….
…to believe that you’ve been gone
For a year
And you are not coming back.
At least not the way I knew and loved you.
Maybe you are here
As a bird, hovering over me
Watching what I do
Observing my struggles
And chuckle at my attempts
To make a meaningful living
While as a bird you just focus on survival.
Or maybe you are a spurt of grass
Breaking through the crack
In the concrete path
That I walk on every day,
Besides my often-times despair.
Or maybe you are a star,
Tirelessly shining on my city
And only very rarely and briefly
I look up and stare into your beautiful eyes.