Remains Poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro

For the past year,
Been readin' through,
All the e-mails
we wrote to each other
Some were well remembered
Some, welcome surprises

As you no doubt surmised,
It became part of my routine
A cherished ritual
After checkin' e-mail,
And right before
The Writer's Almanac

Each day, opened
an email from that day,
from each year since we met
How good it's been
to have your voice
inside my head

Today is the full circle point
The last one has been read
Had not thought of the day
When I would reach the end
Alas, now what?
Oh my, what now?

Start over and read them again?
It helps but then,
it does not help
Keep the pang close
or bury it?
Perhaps, time to move on?

To hold
that which cannot be held
To want
what cannot be wanted
To wish for that
which cannot be

Reached into my desk drawer
Pulled out the handwritten
note that you wrote
to me in French
Held it and stared
Read it again

The scent of your perfume,
remains
The pain of bein' without you,
remains
What else is there?
What else remains?