If someone had said you passed away
this evening at 8, when my watch was still
an hour behind, on a few minutes to seven,
I'd be around for rituals with your loved ones.
We'd sip the last of your lemon tea, taking
turns to embrace you with private words.
Some would simply freeze you
with that wholly unsayable look of love.
In the quickening, we'd fold away your clothes,
close the curtains over the awful pouring
light, but couldn't do a thing for the beep
& brake of cars, the low hum of a fast
travelling bus as we'd help you to the awkward
angle of your bed, how you'd be found,
then we'd hold back for the aweful way you'd rise
to the almighty challenge of your punctual
heart-stop.
Making our journeys homewe were back in time
strangely prepared
when someone said
you passed away
this evening at 8.
Daljit Nagra, Look We Have Coming To Dover! Tranquebar Press. 2008*.
*
It's been seven weeks. 49 days. I can see myself getting used to marking the weeks but not tearing myself up over their arrival and departure. I can see myself looking into the room, at the bed and not feel a lurch of the heart.
Heart-stop. It happens. Get over it.
*Daljit Nagra's book was published by Faber and Faber in 2007 in England. This Edition is for sale in India only. The word 'aweful' in the poem is sic.
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4 comments:
Nice poem (even if the typo does jump out to our critical eyes).
Time heals. All you can do is stop yourself from feeling guilty when the intensity of grief reduces..
Wait. What typo? Something I made or the word 'aweful'?
I meant "aweful". Why coin a new word when there is already "awesome" (or "awe-inspiring")? And why make people would wonder if you really meant "awful" :(
Funny how one word can draw attention away from an entire poem :(
That "aweful" might be intentional. After all, the book is titled "Look we have coming to Dover!"
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