My friend Bud Bloom has just put up a fascinating post on Donald Hall, current U.S. poet laureate and husband of the great Jane Kenyon. His post starts with a touching poem by Hall called "Retriever," written in memory of his wife.
Which reminded me that last year I wrote one in her memory too, though I of course never met her except through her poetry.
Dust Jacket Photograph II (in memoriam J.K.)
Photons touched you once then died
on film—-a worthy sacrifice, now fossils
set in printer’s ink and hard stock.
Eyes left a daydream to focus
on the lens, lids held open by dark
irises, the corners of your mouth
only just north of indifference.
What a presumption to read you,
though life is one long presumption,
the search for meaning in other faces.
Your head, heavy in your hands, the secret
bee ring on your finger climbing
toward the flower of a face
that never really opened into the sunlight.