a lack that whispers

Missing can be seen as a hole
in the heart, that imaginary
valentine where we store
our emotions.

Absence of someone loved
can be a presence, a lack
that whispers, that raises
hair on your neck

with fear of no return.
Final absence is a black
hole sucking your whole
life into it unless

you thrust it from you
again and again and
again, supper with the plate
solemn as a moon;

two a.m. waking to empty-
ness louder than a shout;
a voice you hear, but
no one is speaking, ever.

[Marge Piercy {1936- }, 'Absence Wears Out the Heart' from Made in Detroit]