Summer 1981 • Vol. III No. 3 PoetryJuly 1, 1981 |

Old Hat

It was like you, so considerate a man, to have your papers in order, to leave your belongings neat; while compelled to grieve, we were spared the hard, niggling tasks that can clutter and spoil grief. Yet not even you understood how a mere cap on its hook, companion on those outings you still took, could hang so heavily for all those who, like you, would keep a tidy house. We've tried to sort your things, but where are we to hide those in which some living threads remain? What we want is to store such things outside the slow, spiraling loss of love and pain that turns you, day by day, into a stranger.

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