For the Lost Good – a poem by Thomas R. Smith

For the Lost Good
i.m. William Hart Strecker

Driving, grieving again for the lost good —
springtime, the trees at that point of flourishing
their magicians’ bouquets.  A few far-
away turkeys dark against the dark field.

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Here and not here.  The note and
the rest.  The song and the silence after
and before.  Do you think this holiness just comes
out of nothing and goes back into nothing?

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And if so, how magical is that?
Magicians’ bouquets . . . are we someone’s trick?
Those things that truly lodge in our hearts,
it seems only right that they should last.

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Grieve, but try to remember we’re all
in the good that has drawn us toward itself.
Brothers and sisters, separated, find
each other without being introduced.

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Everything is trading places with
everything else.  Don’t be afraid to lose. 
Keep your head above the clouds.  Alive 
or dead, what difference does that make to love?

Thomas R. Smith is a poet, teacher, and essayist living in western Wisconsin. His most recent books are a poetry collection, Medicine Year (Paris Morning), and a prose work Poetry on the Side of Nature: Writing the Nature Poem as an Act of Survival (Red Dragonfly).  He teaches at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis, offering on-line classes available world-wide, and posts poems and essays at www.thomasrsmithpoet.com.