His Absence Haunts

How can it be he is no longer here? How can it be I do not hear that voice His presence haunts me from his battered chair Though I have money and no needs to bare I feel the grief, the affect of his choice. How can it be that he has vanished here? What is the world when loss turns to despair. When every sheet by weeping is made moist? His presence haunts from his beloved chair Now we learn the symbol of the hare Unpeaceful, hunted, jugged or humdrum roast How can it be when love should counter fear? Into the real, we stand and longtime stare We’re begging, blaming, badgered, shamed and gassed Some presence feints with ours in death’s own lairs Now the world of man has long surpassed The time we could blame God for what we ‘ve missed How can it be that He is never here? His absence haunts: symbolic, suffered, real.