Miss a person when you
See what he's left
Behind.
Simple things, like the
Black-eyed Susans he
Planted,
Blooming now,
The Bible he marked up
With his notes,
The Cadillac of a mixer he
Used to make bread.
I've discovered how much you
Miss a person when you
See what he took with
Him.
Simple things, like his jokes
That made me laugh,
His snores that told me he
Was near,
His hugs that healed
Everything.
Some things he left
Behind.
Some things he took
With him.
But each one jabs at my heart
And whispers,
"He's gone."