When You Aren’t Here (rev)

It had taken all day to
get to the front door,
and considerable effort
you are assured.

There was no incentive
to make a greater play at
being part of the day; when
I reached it I had nowhere
to go.

I had ideas, I’m never lost
for them, but there at the
doorway the choices didn’t
pretend to have relevance
or meaning.

You were away, a declaration
of fact – is that a state of being
or an expression? Anyway, you
weren’t here so it didn’t matter
where I went or what I might
have done. So I didn’t. Nothing
matters when you aren’t here.
© 2006, I.D. Carswell