Various Chasms

The lady I stayed with

(long time ago)

had little notes to herself

on her dresser —

reminders to keep going,

to look again for the joy of life,

to hold herself

against the drift of sadness

This I took note of,

though I had no place to put it

and no way to even relate,

various chasms

(at that time)

rendering it impossible

for us to know each other

I might know more now,

be able and willing

to bridge the gap

into which fell

all referents of recognition,

and also the knowledge

which we didn’t mention but probably shared

that I was the same age

her dead son would have been.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 19, 2020