Montaigne sans La Boétie

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

One void is absolute though it can be

Particular.  The void of death is all

If brought to you alone in amité.

The loss of one, just one is lover’s pall

And universe is filled.  The cosmos falls.

Instead its place is only where you knew

Your love now gone.  The thought of life appalls

The lover lingering (in place, less true),

So totally untrue that it is blank

As if the “Let there be” was left unsaid,

As if the fact of light forever sank

Once that one friend in death gave death instead.

    La Boétie in his disappearance reigns.

      All else stays now evaporated stains.

© Phillip Whidden