by David Ackley

How not to have noticed,

his absence in every crack

in the conversation.


“There is no dialogue

Only parallel monologues.”


Pinching him

smaller and smaller

sentence to phrase to word,

murmur, grunt, nod. He was so

pleased to let us talk

(we thought)


How sweet to be

Enjoyed, to be audienced!


His words then, not quite lost,

like glasses, misplaced


in that place between

lost and found