Mist

 

I found a note penned 
in my daughter's young hand. 
"I mist you," it said. 

And I turned this round 
and round like a stone 
in the palm of my mind. 

Then moments later 
I saw a photograph 
of an eggish stone 

On which some loving 
hand had written, 
"You Are Missed." 

How we go from mist 
to missed to something 
even light can't hold.

"I carry my family 
in my heart," my daughter 
once told me. 

Perhaps there, I am mist.

Comments

[Jessicadennis]

Oh, that's wonderful

[kate baine]

Beautiful!

[4katnap]

Perfect!

[Ellen]

That is very beautiful. I love that one.