I never brought her here to seek his approval the way I had
all the other women I claimed to have loved.
she might not have come had I asked, too long a trip West to
where he had set up his last days of his life in a trailer, having been cast
out from the library he loved also with the passing mother who had been his
biggest supporter
Maybe I was scared then, this woman this poet would fall for
him the way all the other women had before he, and now she is gone and he beyond anyway to
meet him again and I return here to the old library then to the new one down
the road, briefly pausing before the house on the lake where he had lived and
where I had always brought the women I loved
And I wonder, would it have made any difference in the
outcome had I tried to bring her here and she agreed to come?
Perhaps only in my mind.
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