All I saw at first
was the top of his head.
But something about that pate
made me think,
“Dad!”
“There he is!
There!”
But what would you
be doing
in a Kroger
in Tennessee?
Of course
he wasn’t you.
As soon as my head
caught up
to my heart,
I knew he wasn’t you.
I know you’re gone.
I know you died.
I know that
wherever you are
you are not here.
You aren’t at the supermarket
or the pharmacy
or at Target,
or Starbucks,
or in a crowd
Christmas shopping
at the mall.
But my heart is
slow to learn,
accepting truth
reluctantly.
One glance at a
stranger’s head
and my unwilling heart
tricks my brain
into hoping
against all hope
that your dying
was just a mistake,
a terrible
cosmic error,
and that is you
shopping at Kroger.
Maybe you’ll look up
from your list,
see me
and smile,
then this hole
in my heart,
caused by so much
missing you,
will heal.
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