by Heather Carnaghan
Missing you is a physical ache deep in my chest;
It’s a heaviness that bends my spine
and burdens every step.
Is there something deeper,
than “I love you”
that a mother can tell her child?
I love the smell of the forest.
I love the taste of a raspberry
plucked sun-warm from my grandfather’s garden.
you are a need in my soul
that “I love you” can’t explain.
What words hold in them
every breath I breathe?