I saw the curtains move
and I thought it was you.
Negating the fact that you are dead
I was convinced that you were back
and not that the wind had blown
fluttering the drapes like
wings of birds.

And I was caught gawking
at nothing
fervently wishing I were
more discerning
and not so buoyantly estranged.

So I took a walk:
down the block
up Washington
into the western sky.

© J. Bernhard

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