14 months, 13 days, 478 minutes

We sang “Seasons of Love” the day

we said goodbye - forever

or never.

I’m told the dead remain present in spirit,

but I still look for you.

My only daughter,

long hair akimbo

stomping your snow covered Uggs on the stoop.

Singing to yourself and everyone.

Your eyes, in the self portraits that hang in the house,

follow me.

I know you see,

just as you saw and heard the dead in life.

And comforted the grieving with

words of reassurance - confirmation

of the deceased’s presence.

But me-

I don’t have that gift,

I don’t have sight or hearing like yours.

So all I see is clouds, mist, air

and hear the wind blown chimes on the porch singing.

I tell myself that maybe it’s really you

and measure my grief in the remembrance of love.