Well, peek-a-boo!

Eleanor our daughter died 21/04/2020

This is not fake news, it’s my witness and my testimony

My scientific evidence, my affidavit:

When Donald Trump came out of hospital and saluted

Announcing to the nation he was macho-fit

I saw you meet him in the White House hallway

Guide him with your strong black fingers

To a comfortable sofa to get his breath back

Then throw him a disruptive zinger:

“You’ve always been so worried about the size of your willy.”

Yes, it was an elegant black lady

But definitely you, your voice, your wit, your sad

Compassion as you made the

President see himself for once without fear. I was

Applauding you by name, El! El!

Last week, I’d just parked the car in the driveway

When my nose caught the pungent smell

Of the three dogs, one old, one young, one lame

All rescued by the polish woman

Who lives nearby. As I sat on the stone wall

To greet them – I swear this is another true one –

I saw my arms were your arms, open to them

my hands your hands tickling their floppy

Ears, my mind your mind comprehending

Their dogliness. Nothing could stop me

Looking over my shoulder to catch your eye,

Breaking the spell. And yet I knew my daughter

As certainly as from the shore I know

The presence of a porpoise in the water

By its back. I cannot make this happen,

Nor anticipate it in the flow

Of time, but am grateful and acknowledge

A quiet way of saying hello.

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