For Martin
You'd kept so many of my cards and the odd letter of our love's existential ramblings thank you for not casting everything into the past as are my tendencies (and how you teased me for it) such papery titbits help recall specifics - an infill for these widowy spider days I recreate each sunrise, from singularity Needless to say I never forget to remember you though I'm only able to take small bites of recall or choke on the whole, unpalatable truth see there - how the candle burns at twilight the nights shall not overwhelm in their unholy alliance with darkness and despair It was written that I was your rock, your wife, not in stone but off-white parchment a foundation of quiet fortitude you'd say what use have you of such things now? And if you forget me, what will we become? That faith we forged from such convergent beliefs we need as never before - so meet me always on the astral plane and I'll divine you in some heavenly hereafter
In the Imaginary Garden, Sanaa invites us to write a poem from Neruda’s magnificently entitled ‘If You Forget Me’. It sparked the Muse and touched a nerve. And at dVerse this week Frank has an offering of November poems and the opportunity for a link up
PoetryPix 