By C. Toto Zaremba

We used to walk here together.
We wondered who the people were
And who they left behind.

We knew them only as names on stones.
We knew they were no longer here.

Your name is not on a stone.
You would never sit here quietly.
I don't come here to visit you.

I visit you in the wind,
in the ocean's tides,
in my memories.

You are not here...

One thought on “Not Here

  1. I found myself reading C. Toto Zaremba’s “Not Here” over and over. The words, the lines, were that good. I think we all occasionally wonder about the people we pass on the streets, the people we meet in elevators, the people we pass in other cars while driving on highways. “Not Here” made me think about all those faces. Frank Kowal


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