I mark your absence by common things
and find you everywhere.
Sitting here at my desk, drinking tea from the green cup
(and though I speak no Chinese,
I can write the symbols for Sun,
and Spirituality,
and Love) ,
making these words
with the pen on which you engraved
my name
(and your name, my love,
is evident everywhere on or about me,
would anyone care to look) ,
committing them to this bound journal
that I keep in the blue box with
the sailboat on the lid.
I am marked as yours
by common things
carrying your echo,
your scent, your voice
(the soft one, when
you stood close.)
I remember what you wore,
each time,
when you gave these to me.