Think of departure as a kind of death:
\na stone draws out of water, and if
\nthe empty space stayed, as in
\na photograph we see it still
\ncaptured by the fast lens that
\nfreezes drops of water
\nas we could never see them
\nbeautiful, arching, glorious.<\/p>\n
But the hole that was a rock
\nremains,
\nwonder\/miracle\/phenomenon
\nunnatural.<\/p>\n
I look at the abandoned toy,
\nthe desultory pencil,
\nthe place you sat
\nbut I can regard only
\nthe play of light on dust motes
\nthe bass thrumming of passing traffic
\nthe softness of upholstery
\nas we could never see them
\nbeautiful, arching, glorious.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Is it possible that we love our loved ones more after they have left? (#1050) Continue reading