Missing in action
such words are brutal;
I’m not missing
I’m here!

I sit here day after day
wondering if the
children are at play -
trying to figure what the
time difference is
at that moment
wondering if you
are headed for work
or are you off today;

I sometimes can’t remember
what your voice sounded like
I remember your perfume, though
Something like gardenias;
A scent I’d like to once again know.

The boys must be as tall or taller
than I am
with all the good food they have eaten
over these long years
Sometimes the thought of dinner
brings me to tears...

I act tough in front of the guards
but when alone, I sit here
and cry 'cause I’m lonely, dear
Longing for the past,
scared of my uncertain future -
Please don’t forget me...

I'm not Missing

I’m still here.