Open Sky

It almost scares me,
this open sky over the ocean.
Like a stairway to heaven,
a tunnel to paradise, a blip on my horizon.

That’s what this feels like. A blip,
as you skip your way out of my life,
over and beyond anything I ever anticipated
for you, my only son.

It almost scares me,
this opening in my heart,
translucent and throbbing,
for everyone to see.
I walk in circles, going about my daily routine
like a robot, a has-been,
a has not, rather.

It almost scares me,
this wretched time on my hands,
of never seeing you again,
of never hearing your voice or
touching your thick hair,
of never smelling the scent of old spice
on your freshly shaven chin.

It never ceases to amaze me,
how I can keep going on
even though you are not at all.

It almost scares me
when I forget to think about you
when I don’t sob myself to sleep.
The thought of you forever 17,
never to be the Uncle of your
sister’s future children,
her an only child now, the
possessor of all I will leave behind,
the one who lived.

It almost scares me,
this open sky over the ocean.