I Miss You

I miss you like I miss Manhattan,
Its synergy, kinesis, can-do attitude.
I yearn for our Dutch Golden Age or
Bygone era of the Italian Renaissance.
Where’s the moon in daytime? You I crave
Like being read grim fairy tales in bed. How
Dancing feet long for tap shoes. I miss you
Bad as a Barbara Walters primetime special.
Maple syrup slow to trickle, tapped from
Old trees. Bee in winter, let us escape to
Tropical Christmas, stocking stuffers of
Chocolate coins and apples from China.
I’m an open umbrella without a metal
Stem. Humming that pop song with the
Deserts missing the rain. Oh, I so miss
You with the sorrow of Switzerland.
You’re photographs in a house afire.
Shrimp paste I’m now allergic to eat.
Art exhibition or play I meant to see.
My retrospective. Limbs a-phantom.