To say . . .

To say . . .

To say I miss you

        is not enough.

To say I’m lonely

        even when I’m not alone

         comes nowhere near

the way I feel. To say

         this room is not big enough

          to hold my pain

misrepresents space and containment.

There is more life to live,  I know that:

                  Life in another hue, without you, is vast and empty.

                  Like a desert,

                  It demands that I must be

Very attentive


Signs of


(Written two months after losing my 92 year old mother, who I could not be with at the end, because of COVID)

by: Mary Louise Hill (3/10/2021) photo by Phil Nicolai, taken the morning of 3/10/2021 in Buffalo, NY                                               

One thought on “To say . . .

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