I looked for you.
You were not in the kitchen,
The ugly orange tiles lay there, lonely.
You weren’t in the dining room.
I remember when we used to play school on the carpeted steps.
But you weren’t there either.
A teacher is never supposed to leave his class.
I smelled you, I smelled your cologne.
I couldn’t find you.
Maybe we were playing hide and seek.
You were hiding.
Things are different now.
I found your hat from World War II,
But it wasn’t on your head.
Maybe you were bringing home a pizza.
Or some Applebees.
Maybe you were building a fort underneath the picture of the Parthenon.
Forts are for children.
I decided you were outside.
Flying your flimsy paper airplane.
It probably crashed already.
But I turned the knob to go look, and found you asleep,
next to the chess board.
You always let me win by moving my pieces.
This time you forfeited.
I wish we could play chess and not hide and seek.
You always let me pick the game.
You were right in front of me.
But I was still looking for you.
I wanted to hide now.
But I couldn’t.
I guess I could but you wouldn’t wake up to look for me.
I am the forever seeker.
And I stay up at night wondering if I’ll find you ever again.