“The presence of your absence bothers me,” begins an old Pierce Pettis song. I’ve sung the lyric both out loud and in my head for several days now as I go deeper into Ginger’s two week pilgrimage to Israel and Palestine that left me here to tend to Schnauzers and in-laws in Durham. The quotidian grace and hope I draw from waking up beside her along with the many ways she permeates my day make this a rather blessed kind of misery, even if it sounds corny. The good news for me is she comes home on Wednesday. I’m ready.


    whether the rib came
    from adam or eve
    is of no real consequence

    the story is not about
    primacy or power
    when you get down

    to the bone – but
    connectedness and
    something missing

    from one without
    the other, I know
    my joints ache

    with your absence
    I am missing marrow
    and ready for reunion

    a walk in the garden
    and the way we fit
    together side by side



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