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Willard
Timothy E. G. Bartel (bio)

Within a holy mystery of sense
We see contingency as precious: one
Misplaces key, or phone, or grocery list
And, wanting it in urgency, with strong
Imagination feels it in one’s grip,
And almost can be baffled wishing did
Not make the thing appear. It was just here,
And mind rebukes it for its disobeying.
I have an inkling death is similar:
One loses hold on what is hard and sure,
And spins in bafflement. My father says
That as my grand-dad died, he jerked awake,
And asked in panic where it was: that thing
That had been in his hands, and now was gone.

 

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