by Milton Ehrlich —
I’ll be writing and re-writing a poem,
just like I’ve done every day of my life—
hypervigilant as a diving cormorant
and able to rest in perfect stillness,
holding my breath for as long as I can.
I was already dead—
no snapping synapses, no sensitive feelings—
until I heard the murmur of your voice
and inhaled the scent of your skin.
I’ll tattoo your loving touches in invisible ink
and take along a laptop in case they have Wi-Fi—
and stationary to test out my forever stamps.
Let go of the withered leaves on our favorite trees,
there will never be another me or you.
Prepare to take flight through the door I left open.
I’ll send you a map of my location.
Take your time. I’ll wait for you.
Milton P. Ehrlich Ph.D. is an 87-year-old psychologist and a veteran of the Korean War. He has published many poems in periodicals such as the London Grip, Arc Poetry Magazine, Descant Literary Magazine, Wisconsin Review, Taj Mahal Literary journal, Antigonish Review, Ottowa Arts Review, Red Wheelbarrow, Huffington Post, Christian Science Monitor, and the New York Times.