Bright shadows

and the paradox 

of missing a man

who has given

no time 

to be missed--Realities and

symptoms of

the many

afflicted with

warmth in their 

nature and 

sporadic love,

so much love, 

in their nurture.

For now,

I may wallow, 

I may wail, 

For I do not 

Feel you, I do not

see you. 

Until the cosmos

call for us

again, to meet,

to unite

to behold,

I shall presently

and nightly

seek solace

in the empty caress

of the moonlight.