#poem Sometimes Gone is Sometimes

Piercing cold
I step on
My dead wife’s comb

Piercing cold, Buson
wrote in his poem—
his haiku of suddenness
—I step on
my dead wife’s comb—

piercing cold.

Heat, frost.
The suddenness
of an alluring step.

Sometimes gone
is only sometimes
and never past—
there’s the rub—

it is not the heat
or cold of the real
that makes it sting,
that makes it frigid,

but the suddenness
out of nowhere that

sometimes gone
is only sometimes,


sometimes gone is gone
but then
a step and
it kicks your ass



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