The Brooklyn Rail

I returned to a city too busy
to notice me walking past the delis
and dollar stores, skipping
the circulars at the A&P and the bread
on sale in the late afternoon.

The streets were empty as Memorial Day
and silent as I imagined your footsteps
must be with no crunch of gravel
behind me as I climbed into the light
and the sun worked into the sky.

I felt the day light my face and turned
to watch it on yours but you were not there
only my shadow pointing to the earth
I overturned like a grave robber.