No Corners to Turn

I will have rounded a corner

(Maybe moved from one stage of grief to the next)

When I have deleted your phone number

And mailing address from my contacts

Consigning to the ethereal scrap heap

That picture of you on Thanksgiving

At the head of the table

In a heavy sweater from Bean,

The sleeves creased from your ironing,

The smile on your face

The emblem of triumph:
You are here.  We are here. 

In this tiny, round image

All eyes are on you in shared relief

And joy that you are here.

What lies around that corner?

I cannot imagine the moment

I will believe you are not here.

I will not believe what is not true.

When death kissed you fully on the mouth

And the nurses brought you delicacies

From shrimp scampi to gourmet cookies,

Sure in their belief you would be dead in a day,

You ate until you were satisfied,

And then you kissed Death right back

On the mouth

And claimed almost two more years

Among us, following us on Instagram,

Making jokes, watching

Law and Order, 

Loving us into the acceptance of your passing

That you were in no hurry to accept yourself,

Despite your pain.

You loved us that much.

You are in my starred list among my contacts.

Whenever I need to find someone, there you are,

Victorious, smiling, laughing,

Holding your family in thrall.

You are here.  I am here.

This is our triumph:

Love has one body, one voice:
Yours and mine, 

Heaven and earth,

Round and around,

No corners to turn.

We go on.