Away

Away again, I'm missing you
and when I'll see you, I don't know.
I really don't know what to do.

I seem to see you for a few
seconds, but then – poof! – you blow
away again. I'm missing you.

Another night I must get through.
My thoughts meander to and fro.
I really don't know what to do.

I doodle or I write haiku,
prosaic scraps I have to throw
away again. I'm missing you.

I could watch "Captain Kangaroo"
or "Friends," or "Simpsons," or – oh, no,
I really don't know what to do!

I will not let this kill me, though,
because I want to never go
away again. I'm missing you.
I really don't know what to do.