There He Stands

And there he stands, 

off to the side. 

He’s not in the shadows, 

but he’s avoiding the light.

He stands in silence, 

listening, without a word.

Does anyone notice? Will anyone care?

Do they even remember that he’s there?

Hurting. Grieving.

Trying hard to breathe. 

Wondering if this is still just a dream.

But why can’t he wake up from this heaviness

that feels like thick fog on a cold, dark night.

Walking through the moments.

Nodding, robotically when asked.

What else is there to say?

What else is there to do?

Surprised that 

occasionally they take note.

In between the whispers and the tears.

They remember he’s there, too.

Just standing. 

Waiting. 

Watching.

Breathing.