The Untraceable

It’s been awhile. A great number of whiles. Actually. One morphs to three which loses count around 14. Maybe more. It’s surprising, the stages of grief. The missing of the craft. The relishing of the time. The welcome respite from obligation.

And yet.

The break for good reason. But in the beauty of the exhale another one you knew took his last breath.

It’s time. To return. Others don’t get the chance.

To know otherwise would be to predict one’s last word. A skip ahead only to pretend a subsequent page-turn was done without will. Would that it were that simple.

Said no one. Ever.