To say how much I've missed you, I offer this,
at most mist, at least assorted letters, lists,
numbers I insist tell stories. I kissed you
last, Dad, in the casket in which you passed on,
to some next place, but last listened for your voice
last night, these long years after, will listen next
when next oppressed by blue-gray, as I am now,
as I, thus lost, am always by your absence.
Harvey Lee Hix (EE UU, 1960). Doctor en Filosofía. Docente, poeta y ensayista. Académico. Entre sus premios, el T. S. Eliot Prize for Poetry.