absences
Beloved brother
i remember
i.
spending endless hours trying to teach “I love you”
in Russian: Ya lyublyu tebya without success
if only I’d tried Yellow blue tibia I might’ve succeeded
ii.
walking round the cathedral after midnight in mist
looking for the cross you’d dropped earlier in the day
we were unsuccessful in that — but it’s still a favourite memory
iii.
talking to you about the car crash that killed him
& how i’d hit the bottle so fucking hard afterwards
it wasn’t fair to find — then lose — eternity so quickly
now you’re gone, how, how to go on
Wow. What a great poem with a vivid, hard turn. So relatable to those who have suffered loss. The use of the f bomb was not only warranted but necessary in that stanza. I might toy with stretching out your final single-line stanza into three lines to slow it down. (But that’s me.) Thanks for sharing.