Companion Spirit

walking in the
front door i
have to catch myself
at the threshold—
the first breath inside,
i inhale you

another step, woozy
with the scent of dog
and wood shavings,
i breathe again

you
here

i call your name,
hoping,
but there is
no answer
no dog
no wood
except the oak
tables you
crafted by hand,
the shavings long
swept away

i pause in
our living room
barely breathing
heart thudding

though there is
no angelic vision
no voices
no wings
you’ve
made an
appearance

inhaling you
again, i use
your line when
you’d first hear my
voice on the phone:

“there you are”

(from Companion Spirit, Jan Haag, 2006, LAMP Press)