For the late Helen Kinnear

The woman I know

would hug cactus

if God told her to

(and she didn’t have to walk too far).

 The woman I know

would blame herself

if God went missing

(as She seems to some days).

 The woman I know

would marry men

on single-minded journeys

(when she believed in destinations).

 The woman I know

would only survive surgery

with Divine intervention

(and an iced coffee transfusion).

The woman I know

would believe in me

on the flimsiest of evidence

(and question my sanity when I returned the compliment).

 The woman I know

would think the world might end

if she wasn’t steering someone straight;

(and she’d be right).

 The woman I know

would think she was clapped out at 50

but then bat on

(because St. Rodney Marsh would).

 For Helen

For the late Barb Fitzgerald

 

Now that you are gone

the cruelty is ended.

You, the speaker of many truths,

are no longer taunted

by a tongue in twisted battle

with a mind no less sharp

and arms no less caring

that could not be raised in love.

 

Now that you are gone,

I’ll have you near me always;

Close to mind and heart,

a constant in my chaos.

But in my selfish grief,

I want you here, and now,

so that I can understand

the true order of things.

 

Now that you are gone,

I will cling to calls in the night

and recall your thoughts

in my struggle for the truth.

But I would rather have the magic

to conjure you at will

so that we could save our worlds together,

even worlds apart.

 

Now that you are gone,

You’ll never wipe away my tears

and laugh rudely with me again,

in this world that travels on.

I must learn to live,

With not one more single hour

when you soothe my soul

and make all things possible, again.