The last weeks
Have been a lesson
In the geography of loss

Any place I think to go
Your absence is already there

The bed we shared
The back verandah
Built for you
The garden you loved
Now overgrown with weeds

In town I visit cafes
Where you will
No longer sit
Walk past shops
You will no longer visit

Drive through the back streets
Where we used to park the car
To cry and fight at night
Away from the kids
And that one time
Make love

Within a two hour drive
Of this town
There is hardly
A beach or national park
That won’t wonder
Where you are
Next time I go to visit

And in our photo albums
India, Thailand, Laos
England, Scotland, Ireland
Italy,  Austria, Germany

So many countries
Whole continents
Empty of you

Closer to home again
The places you lived
After you left
The towns you drove through
On the final day
The end of the empty country road
Where you lay
In the backseat of the car
And waited for the end

And the rocky outcroppings
Between two beaches
Where I scattered your ashes

This is the geography of my loss

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