After Andrea Potos

I would give it back to you, a month of May,
especially the days just after Mother’s Day, the time
when the world up north again began its blossoming,
while you in Florida prepared for making your farewells.
On the phone, you asked me to fly down, and I promised
but delayed the trip by a few weeks and was too late.
I would give back to you an earlier visit, some chores
around the house, walks if you were up to them,
stopping every now and then to observe the trees, the willow
by the lake, its splendid cascades reaching for the ground.
Or you would sit at the piano, playing favorites.
I would give back, too, the memories of your wedding,
its anniversary this month, and how you said you arrived late
because you needed an hour to buy a hat. We would have watched
time pass together a little longer so that the abruptness
of your departure might not pain me as it still does
this glorious, budding month each year.

Ronnie Hess is an essayist and poet, the author of seven poetry collections and two culinary travel guides. Her most recent book, Eggphrasis, about raising hens in her back yard, is forthcoming from Word Poetry. She lives in Madison.