Moving the Frame
by Jane Kenyon
she's a master and this is a simple exemplary poem

lmpudent spring has come
since your chest rose and fell
For the last time, bringing
the push and ooze of budding peonies,
with ants crawling over them
exuberantly.

I have framed the picture
from your obituary. It must have been
taken on a hot graduation day:
You’re wearing your academic robes
—how splendid they were—
and your hair and beard are curly
with sweat. The tassel sways…
No matter how l move your face
around my desk.
your eyes don’t meet my eyes.

There was one hard night
while your breath became shallower
and shallower, and then
you were gone from us. A person
simply vanishes! I came home
and fell deeply asleep for a long
time, but I woke up again.

https://www.revistadelauniversidad.mx/articles/708b185f-98b4-4f4b-b730-5ade823d92b4/moving-the-frame-al-cambiar-el-marco-de-lugar

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