Saturday

When I was four you used to yell at me for going up the stairs.

It was respect.

My childhood dog is burried in your backyard.

It was love.

No Christmas was complete without seeing your face.

It was unity

You always said if you have nothing nice to say, shut up.

It was honesty

That special room holds the secrets to silence.

It was admiration.

Though I no longer know how these things feel from you in a present moment.

They were gifts.

Though we were not bonded by blood.

We were family.

Though I could not reach you to tell you new stories, Oh that I longer to do.

You were here.

Though I am but a million miles away.

I am there.

In silence.