These Many Rooms
With the speaker of Bosselaar’s poems, we move through dark rooms of grief, finding our way into the light of quiet solitude.
“[So, how are you?]” from These Many Rooms
So, how are you? friends ask, all kindness & concern,
heads cocked, eyes locked in mine.
&, just like that, I’m his again:
his wife, his widow: the one whose name
was hyphenated to his — & I’m oddly
happy to speak about
myself, coupled to him again, finally,
& say I’m okay, better, but won’t say
his name out loud yet because I know
I’d throw a shadow over the conversation —
all kindness & concern — & over him also,
who no longer has a shadow.