You're not there

In memory of the time Andrew and I joked about how non-rhyming "poetry" grated against our proverbial souls.

I drove past the golf course and waved,
But no one looked over to notice
And then I remembered
You’re not there.

I striped the front lawn ever so carefully
And wondered if you’d stop to chat
And then I remembered
You’re not there.

I walked through the empty house early
And heard your voice echo in the halls
And then I remembered
You’re not there.

I prayed for the peace of Jerusalem,
And recalled our march through the city
And then I remembered
You’re not there.

I mowed your grave this morning,
And wondered Who You’d Be Today
And then I remembered
You’re not there.