Summing Up

The Charles Meditations, Part 5

It could be I'm imagining
you. I'm alone here in the chapel.
Probably not seeing but inventing.

Yet there you are sitting
opposite me, away from your coffin. Well
it could be I'm imagining

you, your shirt off as if you'd been gardening.
Or is it some memory plucked at will
and neither seeing nor inventing?

I speak a bit from the bible I'm holding
to help you on your way. You smile. Still
it could be I'm imagining

you standing there puzzled, staring
at the black-draped box. Hardly possible
what you are seeing. Or am I inventing?

My coat was too heavy, you are saying
as you disappear down the aisle. Gone. All
it must be is I've been imagining
certainly not seeing but inventing.

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