Three Years On (Poetry)

There have been gaps some days -
whole minutes drifting, light,
when I haven't thought of her at all -
she's been gone, lost to sight,
for so long now - three years,
so I guess I should be free of tears
and close to getting used to it
(or, at least, quite resigned)
and there are those times I find
I remember her without
the same degree of pain -
as though the hurt is less,
soothed, the old distress
dulled a bit by distance.

Then, without warning, her clear voice -
the echo of her - slices through a dream
as though across the ether we connect -
blood to blood, it seems
the surge is strong as ever -
ties still unbreakable
as the sense of loss renews itself,
underlined by guilt
that I should even want to let
a second pass without regret -
that empty feeling rising once again
revives the ache, the need to share
mother-daughter talk -
rebuild the fallen bridge.

Dedicated to all parents who have lost touch with their children.