Present, Absent

I’m in this silent place drawing with the pens you gave me. Your medals around my neck. Your rosary by my bed. You are ever present.

When I think of sketching I think of you.
When I see the woman at the well I think of you.
Your passion for women,
the light,
the full jug of water
you gave me.

You are ever absent.
Gone. Not with me.
Never to return.
Final.

Your memorial booklet,
your smiling photo.
It’s under my notebook,
I don’t need to display it,
because

You are ever present.
You are ever absent.