scott.

there he was,

alive at one moment

and gone

in the blink of an eye.

it was almost as if

he never was really there at all —

the house was given away

and his cat had run off,

all his belongings sold.

and yet my heart still weeps

when i think about him

pushing me on the swings,

or building me a playground

because he just wanted to see me happy.

i could almost imagine

that my uncle never existed,

and yet his face

is burned into my eyelids.

i remember the late night talks

as we looked upwards towards the stars

and him building a mini zipline

in his backyard,

watching me giggle

as i zipped around and around.

i remember his gentle touch

as he pushed me up the tree

to reach it,

and the moments

where we would talk.

and so when i heard the news

of a motercycle wreck

i locked myself in my room and i cried.

he wouldn't

recognize me if i visited,

and yet i wondered if it

would bring comfort if i did.

i wish that i was able to see him

one last time

and yet i'm glad my last memory

was a good one.

for weeks afterwards

everywhere i looked,

i saw him smiling with

pity-filled eyes.

and now as i'm older,

i've forgotten the sound of his laugh

or the depth of his gray eyes.

i lost him

when i was only seven,

and yet he lingers with me

every night.

i miss him sometimes,

the only comfort i had,

but other times i wonder if he's happy.

i can't revisit

his place anymore,

or look at old photos

because they're gone.

and so i live my life

with my uncle by my side

in memory and longing

for the rest of my days.

i may have forgotten his smile

and his haircut,

but i'll always remember

the beauty we shared,

the laughter inside of our souls.