The Missing

The clouds have come down to rest among the likes of men

They are lost

The four like points on a compass walk in different directions

They think maybe they are getting closer to each other but they are only getting farther away

The smallest one keeps walking and screaming and crying and hoping

He stumbles and falls at a base of a giant cherry blossom tree

He hits his fists on the ground and his voice hitches in his throat

He curls up at the base of the tree to wait for them

How could they miss a giant cherry blossom tree, he thinks

So he waits

and he waits

and they never come

But he never leaves and he always remembers their faces

And how happy he was in that time to have known people who loved him