Van Stanley

On Hearing Of Szymborska, Passing

News came over after the telephone
it rang & so I picked it up & my sister
told it to me: Wislawa Szymborska
died to day. at 88 & I thought: Oh, impossible
she is too young to die.  Too young.
Like a child pocket sleuth setting perimeter
around gravel by the swing sets
& like the universe is as young or as old
as the moment it collapses.  Wislawa
Szymborska is dead & no one is talking.
I delighted & I chuckled that today of all
days she could lay her path over
the stumbling steps of my thoughts, again.
& I smiled & said Oh, no as I smiled
& my sister on the line asked me:  Are you
high?  & so I told her: Yes, I am.  Of course
I am — but I can still be sad, can’t I?
chuckling, chuckling.  Chuckling to convince
the universe it is not now less alone simply
that only small accidents now & not news
will lay her little path over another, again.