Missing

Good friends, good talk, good food, a little sunshine. 

And yet my sleeves are too short. My shoes are too loose. My ring slips around the wrong way on my finger. My hair is all angles and spikes. My tea is weak and the milk’s a little off. I read but I’ve lost track of the plot. I pace and fidget. I draw on my snazzy new harmonica and all I get is minor chords. The light’s all wrong. It’s the wrong song. Somebody’s missing here.

Thanks to DHThomas for this Lamartine, so appropriate: "You miss one single being and everything seems empty." Amen.

Ella Fitzgerald and Nat King Cole.