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for L.A.
That kiss I failed to give you.
How can you forgive me?
The kiss I would have spent on you is still
there, within me. It will probably die there.
But it will be the last of me to die.
Note from Laure-Anne Bosselaar: When Tiger Bark Press asked to publish a New & Selected after Kurt died, I had to gather the courage to go into Kurt’s computer and files — which felt so invasive! It’s there I found “The Kiss” in a Folder entitled “Almost Poems” — so I presume Kurt was still working on it. But for me, it was a poem, right there, in those few lines…
Copyright 2025 by the estate of Kurt Brown.
Kurt Brown (1944-2013) was a highly regarded poet, editor, and literary activist. He founded the Aspen Writer’s Conference, now called Summer Words, in 1976. It was there that he met his wife, Belgian-American poet Laure-Anne Bosselaar. He was the author of several full-length poetry collections, including I’ve Come This Far to Say Hello: Poems Selected and New (Tiger Bark Press).

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Beautiful, Laure-Anne. Heartbreaking and beautiful. What a gift to find this and share it.
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Beautiful, Laure-Anne. Heartbreaking and beautiful. I’m so glad you found this and shared it.
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I love this poem and it breaks my heart. Every time.
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Thank you all affectionately for your comments — it felt good to read how kindly Kurt is remembered. And good to remember him kindly along with you…Thank you, Michael!
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Oh my goodness. I loved this poem before. I love it even more now. Thank you, Laure-Anne, for sharing it with the world. Thank you, Michael, for sharing it here.
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Me too, Rosemerry.
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I think that part of Kurt Brown is still alive, framed and enhanced by the poem. It helps heal this reader’s own loss. Thanks to all.
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Splendid, resonant “almost” poem that actually IS one. I love this, Laure-Anne. What a valentine to happen upon. XO
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Thanks for sending this, Michael. And, Laure-Anne, I’m imagining you and Kurt working together to make poems. I suspect he is still a part of that process.
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Short, poignant poems are rare and wonderful. I agree with all these comments and Laure-Anne is so fortunate to have had her ideal mate, Kurt, in her life. They accomplished so much together with all the anthologies they produced and our community of poets still mourns this loss. How great a moment to have discovered this poem! 💜💚🩵
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Stunning and very, very beautiful.
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Kurt’s beautiful devotion to Laure-Anne ends in perfect heartbeat pentameter. The poem is that kiss, no “almost” about it.
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Leaves me without words.
This is the poetry of being, that exists without record, or action. It is only that we are such creatures as we are—a word is written or spoken at all, and so look at this, in my babble I’ve already exceeded the length of this lovely poem.
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This poem is an arrow to the heart. So universal, so particular. It takes me to my own experience of love not always expressed, but it also reminds me of the incredible connection between Laure-Anne & Kurt, as teachers at Sarah Lawrence in the MFA program, when we students felt we were getting the immense benefit of two poetic sensibilities in harmony. Celebrating this richness as I salute both poets, the magic of love, and this haunting poem.
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Such a deeply moving five lines. They take my breath away.
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Mine too, Susie. Thanks for saying so.
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If this is an “almost poem” it’s one like Keats’s “This living hand,” all the more complete and powerful in its brevity and sense of incompletion, and in the way it reaches across from the world of the dead back to the world of the living– to you, Laure-Anne, but also to all of us.
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Thank you, Jeffrey. It’s nice to see you here again. As you know, Laure-Anne has been one of our most prolific contributors to Vox Populi over the years. We love her work and her warm presence.
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So good to hear you mention “This Living Hand” in connection with Kurt’s poem. The resonance resounds.
Good as well to remember meeting you and hearing your work at The Frost Place, oh-so-long ago.
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Such a beautiful poem. I can only imagine, Laure-Anne, how it felt to find it. There’s nothing “almost” about the poem or about the depth of love it conveys.
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