Loss has verbs in its pockets.
X was
and now isn’t.
Y notices
that X was and now isn’t.
X was here, now X is gone.
Loss is sly ownership.
Absence rings, tapped crystal.
Loss sings the rim.
X lost Y, X feels lost.
Loss has no appetite.
Radio
I left it
on when I
left the house
for the pleasure
of coming back
ten hours later
to the greatness
of Teddy Wilson
"After You've Gone"
on the piano
in the corner
of the bedroom
as I enter
in the dark
from New and Selected Poems by David Lehman