Saturday, 1 November 2014

In Good Company, Gifts Made to Last

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

Regular readers will know that I believe in the existence of ghosts in the nicest possible way. (There are less kind ghosts, of course, but they are of no concern to this particular poem.)

Now, at Easter or whenever... (When did remembrance ever play lackey to time?)

IN GOOD COMPANY, GIFTS MADE TO LAST

I went to your grave
on Easter day, a longing in the heart
to be near, as once we were

I knelt, unable to pray,
laid a bouquet of flowers at the stone,
glad to stay…
Someone wished me Peace,
said pain would pass and hurt grow less,
that you’d left but briefly,
but that’s not what I wanted
to hear, just to be with you once more
as once we were
                 
A tugging at my sleeve,
but I wept, and would not, could not
leave without you;
gently now, lifting my face
to the sky, showing aspects of our history
like a home movie;
easy then to rise and turn away
from a stone and flowers, ours the gift
of eternity...

Walking hand in hand
through a cemetery, you and I, content
to be in good company

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002; 2014

[Note: Poem and title slightly revised (2014) from an earlier version that appears in 1st eds. of First Person Plural, Assembly Books, 2002; revised ed. in e-format in preparation.]

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