I felt his absence
in the shadows of the house.
The cat’s silhouette
broadcast on the wall.
The play of outside trees
on the window curtains.
He returned
from the business trip
bringing me gifts.
A rolled-up poster
of a rocket,
the fire orange of its propulsion
set against the cerulean heavens.
And a pop gun,
shellacked with hand-painted designs,
from San Francisco’s China Town.
First taking deadly aim,
then childish joy,
as the tethered ball
shot out.
Fwop!
With the presents,
I sensed
his shadowed love.
—