Missing

Missing. A word that used to mean nothing. Now it means everything. Missing. It chills my blood. Are you still alive? Are you gone? Will we find remains? Will we ever know? If you were unhappy, I did not know it. You did not give any inkling of this. Was I too thick-headed to see? Or were you taken? My sleep is fitful. I am up and down all night. Staring out at stars. Wondering if you see them. The worst scenario comes back often into my mind. A white skull in a pile of leaves, found in November During hunting season. It is almost the end of August. Where are you?