Two Truths
February 13, 2022 by Rosemerry
after Ruth Stone, “Train Ride”
He is dead. Never again
to pull on the fencing mask,
moonwalk to his bedroom
or snuggle on the couch.
Not dancing on the stage.
He is dead. Not spinning
the gator through the field.
Not graphing equations for fun.
Is he dead? asks the heart.
No, he lives on forever.
In the scent of lemon.
In the cloudy ice on the pond.
In the buds of the lilac tree.
In the song on my breath. He lives
in blue sky and comet and field.
He lives in ink and in spaces between.
He is dead.
I held his body in my arms.
Since that day, he has never left me.
He is alive forever.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged absence, death, grief, presence | 7 Comments
Thank you for introducing me/us to, “Train Ride.” I see its marks on your poem; however, “Two Truths” is its own separate and distinct poem.
He is dead, and is alive forever—but one of the plethora of paradoxes of life. Gone forever, right here forever. The scent of him still in his clothes. The unshakeable sensation that he was just here, mere seconds ago—that he’s just left the room. The gaping hole of him left behind. Rather, the numberless gaping holes of him, everywhere and all the time. For always having just left , having just missed him. This world, now without end.
And so it forever goes.
oh the paradox, friend–it’s got such a strong tug in two directions at once
He lives on in the song of my breath – Absolutely! [And between the lines of every poem emerging from you. His gift(s) to you.]
yes, yes, that was so in my thoughts, in my heart
He is dead… He is alive forever. oh the bittersweet truth of this. xoxo
I wept when I wrote the last four lines, feeling the deep truth of them–it is so bittersweet, this paradox
[…] Two Truths […]