A Beautiful Haunting

(Mine madness…) 

This memory of you, of us, 
at some small corner table, 
in some small hotel, 
in some little town, near home, 
it haunts me in a beautiful way— 
why do you haunt me this way? 

You laughed—how full of life! 
I wish, and then I remember not to. 
Some wishes are pain, and loss. 
I lost you, my friend, 
and yet, when you laughed with me, 
and shared a simple meal, 
at some small corner table, 
in some small hotel, 
in some little town, near home, 
I did not think of you so much 
as a friend. 
I did not think much of much else. 
I simply existed, with you, in the moment— 
a simple meal, a simple conversation, 
a heartfelt laugh, yours and then mine, 
and mine smiles, and yours, oh, so wide! 
We simply were, we lived. 
How, we lived! 
I did not think of you so much as a friend. 
I did not think much of much else, 
and yet, this would be one of the moments 
I would often revisit in memory. 
I miss you, my friend— 
mine sorrow, mine sadness. 
Why do you haunt me this way? 

I sit alone, 
at some small corner table, 
in some small hotel, 
in some little town, near home. 
I eat alone. 
I sadden, I smile. 
I remember, I remember. 
I cry, and I laugh. 
I see you, right there, 
where your smile once sat, 
where your laugh once thundered. 
I see you, I see you— 
mine madness. 

I still find it beautiful, 
this haunting. 

©benielangat, 2021. 

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Photo by Amol Tyagi on Unsplash