No Matter How You Dress It Up, We Are Alone

No Matter How You Dress It Up, We Are Alone

 

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem 

“Love is all.”  The Baron in the Trees, Italo Calvino

   

Charles Randall Stanfield                                        Italo Calvino

Perhaps the sonnet Chuck would write to me

If he were living in the trees he used

To climb, would be about theology,

The weirded thinking in which he refused

The Bible, well, the parts he found to strict

And inconvenient.  Or he might instead

Imagine me among his trees, depict

The two of us with them, the ones he spread

On canvases before he died.  The lines

Would say, “Another autumn comes, you staid

And I am gone.  A lightning strike confines

My ashes underneath the forest shade.”

  Two autumns come, the one for him, the one

    For me in life.  He left me for his son.

Phillip Whidden