Chard deNiord: Last Goodbye in the Time of Corona

He died alone, and he will be buried alone. Der Spiegel

.

The darkness arrived without your voice 

or touch, my love, and yet I heard 

your voice and felt your hand in mine.

Nothing in the end, not even death,

can loose my grip from yours. 

What can I say that echoes here 

and beyond? Just this: 

you were always so contagious, dear, 

my hazelnut, my vast, 

but unlike this germ, you infected me 

with a love that made me better 

than well, that was a gift of bliss

I didn’t deserve. 

So take these words that are not mine

but the ones you gave me

 in the silence of this room 

and I return. 

You were there, I tell you. 

You were there when I was crossing 

from there to here,

and you are here as well, right now.

No absence—yours or mine—

can fill itself with itself anywhere 

when two have loved 

as we did love, if only for a time. 

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Chard deNiord’s many books include In My Unknowing (Pitt, 2020)

Copyright 2020 Chard deNiord