I didn’t miss it until all was gone—
the sky-reaching branches, olives
and figs dangling in the groves.
My eyes kept scanning for land
only to find water, then more water.
How I missed the sand and dirt.
Tops of familial tents,
fires blazing near brambles,
sunsets over mountains.
Orange leaves coloring
the horizon. Now at the ark’s bow,
I stare at absence.
A hole opens in my chest.
Such loneliness in boundless seascape,
nothing missed until it’s lost.
