Visitation

It's strange to go somewhere I like so much
Without you. Strange to walk alone these roads
Only imagining how you'd like such and such,
What would amuse you, what would give you loads
To tell our other friends about. I bear
Your presence with me, but that cannot be
A substitute for you. I often stare
At signs that signal where I know that we
Would turn because you wanted to, and sigh
Because you are not here to make me go.
I swear - you must believe - I really try
To photograph all these so I can show
Them all to you, but electronic means
Hardly amount unto a hill of beans.