another sunday

On day like this I wish you were here.  I wonder what you would tell me.  What is worse than remembering the last word you said... not the most comforting...your scared voice... the frustration and the fear...I only wish you were here but whenever I turn you're not here. And I know you will never be here...you will never get to listen to my story... and I will never get to listen to your story...
as always ...
we meet and greet
we play our parts
then we part our ways...

as transient as life can be....