Thursday, June 23, 2016

"Her Death Came So Fast" by Tricia Knoll, Frequent Contributor



Her Death Came So Fast
Tricia Knoll

She was dead before I knew
she was unwell, ill.
I’d left out an owed apology.
There is always time.

She was feeling ill, unwell
just at the point she’d fallen in love.
Because there is always time,
this new man made it easier for me.

Just at the point she fell in love,
she started walking with a smile.
How easy this new man made it for me.
I stayed home, digging in my dirt.

She started walking with a smile
as if she’d forgotten all we’d said.
I stayed home, digging in the dirt
without thanking her for sympathy.

I hoped she’d forgotten all I’d said
too raw, too close that truth.
Without acknowledging her listening,
she knew more than I wanted out

too raw, too exposed to truth.
Now there is her memorial to plan.
I don’t know what she wanted. 
I wash my garden hands. 

Now there is a memorial to plan –
she was dead before I knew.
I volunteered to help her family.
There is always time.

Poet’s Notes:  This is a pantoum written after the death of one of my friends a few years ago. I think pantoums' repetitive lines carry the weight of grief and regret. 

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