Thursday, December 24, 2009

Filing Singly

What if he had not come, the Other?
What if I'd never had a lover?
What if there had not been the bed,
Hands in my hair upon the pillow,
The inclination of the head
Beneath the shelter of the willow?
Would I have dwindled into grayness,
Cool and careful, chaste and seemly,
Accepted the withered end with grace,
Not missing warmth, without lament,
Not reaching toward the empty space?
But I was loved and loving, spent,
Well spent, and wanted in my place;
Though now I'm half where I was whole,
I would not trade my cherished pain
For all the calm of unknown shoals,
For all he will not come again.


(c)Bea DuRette          2009

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