The Presence of Absence
There is a space that is never filled,
a deep, deep gulf.
It is the ache of loss,
the all encompassing, “Missing.”
No goodbyes are ever final this side of things.
Memory and presence
go hand in hand.
The closeness now is so close,
it’s like touching the intangible or
holding an emptiness that is full.
Reality’s reminder comes swiftly.
Eternity must wait.
Sr. Rose Boyle (A November poem)