Laure-Anne Bosselaar: So, how are you?
So, how are you? friends ask, all kindness & concern, heads cocked, eyes locked in mine. &, just like that, I’m his again: his wife, his widow: the one whose name was hyphenated to his — & I’m oddly happy to speak about myself, coupled to him again, finally, & say I’m okay, better, but won’t say his name out loud yet because I know I’d throw a shadow over the conversation — all kindness & concern — & over him also, who no longer has a shadow.
So, How Are You? from These Many Rooms (c) 2019 by Laure-Anne Bosselaar. Appears here with permission of Four Way Books. All rights reserved.
Vox Populi 
Such a simple and evocative poem. I want to cock my head and look you in the eye, too. Peace.
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Thank you!
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His widow, I still have his name, my father’s name buried in the middle, not my mother’s or her mother’s. But that is a different story, opened up to examine, the same and different pain that a good poem breaks open. Thank you.
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Thank you, dear Michael — thank you so much!
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