His Softness
What name would survive
had you not stepped into the water
that day? Memory assigned
a separate word, another given,
and the face I’d placed with you
appeared in front of me
fifteen years later, in another
setting, miles away
and still breathing. How
may I honor you
if not by name? I recall
the gray ocean and how
umbrellas struggled in
the wind, and reading
in the weekly newspaper
a month after
that you had never emerged.
Now your name still lies there,
somewhere, under the surface,
unattached yet moving with
the current, and I,
no matter how I strain,
can’t grab it. Time after time,
it slips away. Just slips away.
.* * *
Many thanks to Sarah Rivera, who sponsored this poem and provided the title during last August’s Tupelo Press 30/30 Challenge. “His Softness” was published in January 2016 in the inaugural edition of Mockingheart Review. I am participating in this August’s 30/30 Challenge, and appreciate any support you’re able to provide – good thoughts, encouragement and donations to Tupelo Press are all welcome.
O at the Edges 
Somber and beautiful all the same.
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Thanks very much.
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Stirring and beautiful. Its cryptic lines hint more story than what is actually revealed. Thanks for sharing.
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Thanks, Simon. While I had a particular story in mind when I wrote this, I prefer letting readers find their own stories. Sometimes they’re the same.
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When I read the first couple of lines, I imagined the outcome. What a story and the fascinating way you spun it.
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Thank you. Memory has a strange way of turning things around.
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Such a beautiful tribute.
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Thank you.
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“I recall the gray ocean and how umbrellas struggled in
the wind…”
Adding the “struggling” umbrellas, hinting at the struggle inherent in drowning… that is really powerful! And connecting the grave with an undercurrent and struggle again… complete and utter WOW! That is why you are such a ferociously gifted writer!!
An infinite amount of stars out of 5!!
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You are too kind, as always. Thank you!
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The power of Okaji Words and their etyma…いっぱい!!
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Very nice, and good luck with 30/30 again. Having wrestled through NaPoWriMo I know what it’s like 🙂
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It’s fun, and the title and word incentives add an additional layer of challenge and potential, uh, horror to the month. 🙂
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Spoken with tenderness ! I’m reminded of a cousin I lost in a pond.
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Thank you, Nazir. The death that sparked this piece actually occurred in a pond, too.
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Lovely redux. 🙂
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Thanks, Cate. The new 30/30 work starts tomorrow! Gulp.
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Thank you for the follow, Robert! I know we were following each other at one time in the far distant past, glad to reconnect. I admire your work, so now I will know (again) when you post, post haste!
I am weeping now, tragic loss is the real demon in our lives, a beast that is very hard to conquer, but can be conquered, with time and commiseration.
Thank you, Robert, for sharing this piece that must have been quite difficult to write.
Cheers,
Jamy Sweet
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Thanks, Jamy. It is indeed good to reconnect. I look forward to reading more of your work.
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A very moving piece, Robert!
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Thank you very much.
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I felt such sadness and loss; the piece hurt me.
It said read me again, aloud.
It called to mind Donne’s For Whom the Bell Tolls,
… If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less…
Each man’s death diminishes me…
I was diminished by your poem. And that’s a good thing.
Thank you for straining my vulnerability.
Randy
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Thank you, Randy. I’m touched by your words.
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