Poem November 24, 1973 Issue

THROUGH A GLASS, DARKLY

Margery Todahl Blokhine

My friend is gone, I'm told. My friend is—gone?
Never so harsh a verdict smote my ears
Which, even as uttered, I denounce, deny.
Being is ever present! And so I,
Disputing separation, turn from tears.

Though we may not communicate in words,
He's here! Remembered kindness, love, and grace
Of spirit bless me, and all those who ring
Our hearth. And men and women fondly bring
His name from past to present in this place.

Margery Todahl Blokhine

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