Sonnet of the Missing Who is it must hear all these unkempt nights Of waiting by the window watching cars Indulge the bonhomie of neighbors, stars, Twinkling modicums of fate, steadfast lights That tend the forlorn craven appetites For certain company? Whose manner jars The peace of others? Whose demeanor bars The forlorn house from its familial rights? Who drags winter comatose into spring, Condemns the night to ancient history? Who cannot think in terms of anything But who's not here, nor ever will they be? Who won't respond when voices call, phones ring? No longer worry on this point. It's me.
John Grey is an Australian poet and US resident. His latest books are Leaves On Pages and Memory Outside The Head, available through Amazon.