MISSING YOU IS HARD TO MASTER

by Caiti Quatmann


Unbeknownst to us, you vanished,
absent. Absent from lectures. Absent

from work. Absent from Thanksgiving.
The windshield wipers absent from your car

though winter reigned in Wisconsin.
Absent your coat. Absent your hair.

We overlooked the signs.
We missed the lies,

the absences you hid.
And I don’t know how to miss you

when absence still wears your silhouette.
It’s all that composes you now:

the empty chair at the dinner table;
the silence in the cold which

settles more forcefully each winter;
absent from phone calls

and the family group chat
(mom still sucks at texting btw);

absent from my wedding photos;
absent from your nephew’s life;

from holidays at mom and dad's
(well, grandma and grandpa now)

when we light the same-old firepit and
try not to speak about all that's missing.


* * * * *

Missing You Is Hard to Master" was previously published in Quatmann’s debut chapbook Yoke (MyrtleHaus 2024).

Caiti Quatmann (she/her) is a disabled poet. She is the author of the poetry chapbook Yoke (MyrtleHaus 2024) and Editor-in-Chief for HNDL Mag. Her poetry and personal essays have been published by Thread LitMag, The Closed Eye Open, and others. Caiti lives in St. Louis, Missouri, and teaches at a local Microschool. Find her on Instagram and Threads @CaitiTalks.