Your Skin Against Mine

There are so many things I miss about you.

Your laughter bursting uncontrollably  

From deep within you

As often as not

at something I did

As something I said

Your ferocious love

for me, for our daughter

whose imprint is seared,

deep into our hearts

for our sons

who now stand fearless and tall

as you did

and our children’s children

Your being, lit with joy

As you read them a book

Or built castles on the carpet

I miss the stories you would tell and retell

To friends, family and strangers

And I listening as they grew in depth and breadth

It could be about anything but later it was about

the people and places you had traveled to and with

African Trackers who learned their secrets

From barefoot ancestors

The lions, hippos and graceful giraffes  

Their images you capture and now hang on our wall

The handsome South African guide

That you and the “Golden Girls”

you traveled with swooned over.

All of those memories

I can live over and over again

And I replay them daily

So as to assuage the hunger

I have deep inside my soul

But the one thing I can’t conjure

In your absence

is the spoon we would make

my arm encircling you

holding you close

and the feel of

your skin against mine