Some say that we were once
briefly so close you could
properly call us one person.
I know it did not last, and I
gave up looking for you
for the longest time, although
I always felt the connection
between us had never weakened.
Years later I did get within
eight or so feet of you but you
never acknowledged my presence
so I moved on again, but I
continued to reach out to you
never hearing back, only
imagining you reached out
to me in the pit of the night.
I know they call this ghosting
and I suppose I should not
be surprised that this is what
a dead birth mother does
to the son she gave up
for adoption six decades before.