I miss
those I have left behind,
n’ those who have left me behind.
Loss lurks around
the skylight of my being,
shadowing my awakening.
Nostalgia
has spread like fungus.
Mycellium running through veins,
nourishing cells with the mirage
of memories.
And yet,
sitting under the shade
of an umbrella pine,
this hot summer day,
gaze dreaming on
the blue Mediterranean,
there is peace.
