life and love
have not been
fair to us

this was love
but once and
never again

none like this

the agony of
love lost is
pure pain

an agony of
the heart that
time and tears

will not assuage

because all
heaven and
earth know

that like my love
for you will never
end this love

poem for you
will forever


to keep loving
you long after
I’m gone

Electronic Intimacy

“What’s on your mind?”
greeted me from the
quick draft window.

I decided to read before
I write, so I scrolled
through the reader to
see what I’ve missed.

Then I read you. I read
your pain.

I went from nothing on
my mind to your pain
on my mind.

(Not my pain, for a change.)

Blog comments applauded
your writing. Rightly so.
But said nothing of the pain.

I follow you but hadn’t read
anything for a while. I wasn’t
sure about what I was seeing
so I read more.

You wrote poem after poem,
then came grief and loss, and
you wrote some more.

You jumped from childhood
memories, to sickness, to
death. A lifetime of memories
in a few poems with a month
of poems in front and behind.

How can we console or be
consoled when we cry

Electronic intimacy isn’t
real. No more real than
reality TV shows.

I felt your loss deeply.
But that doesn’t matter.
We have to feel our own
losses and work through
them. Not around them.

I left a comment.

But that too I fear was
electronically inadequate.
Nor did I intend for it to
be electronically correct.

Because I care for real.
You’ve touched my life.
I wanted to touch yours
from afar.

But not electronically.