Time Traveller


I’ll tell them all you’ve gone to San Francisco
I haven’t got a clue when you’ll be back
You’ve always had an appetite for travelling
And now, it seems, you’ve tried a different track.

That rainy night they told me you had “passed away”…
That crazy call, it made no sense to me
The only way to wrap my head around it
Was rushing to you there so I could see.

Your arms were cool and soft beneath my fingers
I stroked them with a purpose for awhile
I swore I felt a pulse there in the veins beneath your skin
And you looked as if,
At any moment,
You’d wake up
And smile.

How does one accept the fact a loved one’s “gone away”
That the house the spirit lived in is no more
How will my tomorrows feel without you here today
Tapping at the window…coming in the door.

I’ll just pretend that you’re in San Francisco
You’ll write or call as soon as things slow down
I’m sure you’re busy making friends, but don’t forget I’m here
And, meantime, I’ll just say you’re out of town.

By Patricia White
(Jonathan’s mother)