Years mutate virus-like
in their determination
and, before we know it,
only our last conversation
remains, hanging in the air
like a note from a bass guitar
that we know must end.
We each had our perspectives,
memories and photographs
the only proof of friendship,
all that’s left of us, my friend.
That’s why I write these lines,
a tattooed outpouring of ink
and love in difficult times,
a quiet strumming of thoughts,
a last conversation – of sorts.
Kim M. Russell, 16th April 2020
Outlawyer’s prompt from Saturday, April 16th, 2016 was entitled ‘In The Remains of This Month (April!)’. It started with the image of a fragment of a Buddhist sculpture and reference to a poem by Rilke, whose poetry I have loved since I was at school, so I was immediately drawn to the challenge, having missed it the first time around. The challenge is to write something that stems from the word remains.
In the eighties and early nineties, my husband was in a band called April 16th. His friend, the bassist, recently died of the corona virus and, ironically, his funeral is today. I wrote this poem for friends we’ve loved and lost.
I’m merging this prompt with Kerry’s Skylover Wordlist, sourced from Dylan Thomas’s poetry collection Deaths and Entrances, from which the sixteenth word is ‘conversation’.