Poem-A-Day: Day 597

Missing Gone Killing

The digital bends
from surfacing too quickly
underneath the front
and the faded examples
of secrets past unfathomable.

Don’t go without me,
I’m a lost chapter between two
that previously
made more sense without it
but ultimately benefit from arrival.

I’ve missed her
and the hum of transcription
in the peddling light
of simple quiet and
the golden memory of fading.