It is an odd thing indeed
No anniversary words
No celebratory ones either
No collective remembering
No mourning
Not out loud, at least
Though we do not speak of him
He makes his presence felt
I find myself speaking to him
Recalling some event with him
As if he was still right there
The feeling that I bumped him
With the refrigerator door
He’s following me too closely in the kitchen
My sudden yen for liver and fry dumplings
Followed by my words, “remember how you used to like liver and fry dumplings”
Then I caught myself,
remembering that he’s not here
Maybe this thing I’m feeling
that nobody is speaking
Is really not the case
Maybe you just come and go
Stepping in and out of demensions
Conversing, poking individual memories
Which is rememberance just the same
A stout micropoem for myself for Thotpurge Micropoetry Month
Maybe you just come and go
Stepping in and out of dimensions… sometimes we feel the absence of a person so strongly it is like they are right there! Poignant piece Pat… thanks for sharing!
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So true, i swear i bumped him with the fridge door that day. Very intriguing.
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Wonderful!
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Thank you, Happy Thanksgiving🙂
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Happy Thanksgiving, Jazzy! 🙂
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I look be this so much!!
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Thank you Cheryl-Lynn☺
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Wow, spell check did a number on me there…glad you understood [chuckles]
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I took the one that ‘predicts’ off my phone. It was making me look crazy, lol!!
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Ah that’s what I shall do…I got a new phone so had not thought of adjusting those things.. Thanks!
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I love this. The idea of stepping in and out of dimensions is intriguing and makes me think of things in a different way, for a little while. Excellent
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So good to hear. Thank you☺
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Crazy beautiful. Lord. Thank You. 🙂
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Amen! It just flowed ☺. Thanks for your kind words Katy☺
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This is a strongly felt absence, deep and moving.
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Thank you Sumana, glad you found it so. Some reflection, and this came out.😏
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Brava.. 🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀
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Thank you Dorna 😚
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A beautiful write Pat, I love how the veils are lifted between the dimensions here xxx
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Thank you Xenia, so glad you like it,☺
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Don’t know who the departed was–kjd, dog. cat? But the poem was intriguing and really hooked my attention. I live in a house that is riddled with portals, and often people stroll through–so for me your premise is bang on. Hard for us to determine if our visitors (never the same ones) inhabit a overlapping dimension, or several parallel ones.
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My previous house was like that. I would feel someone pass my room like they’re going to the bathroom. I’d call out to my daughter and ask if that was her. It never was! The weird thing was that i never felt frightened. Maybe because i just sensed them, not see them.
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