This is a beautiful poem which is even more poignant because the person who shared it on facebook not too long ago died last night. I met Michael through the online community I've been a part of for over 10 years now. One of his great gifts to us was posting the poems he'd find. As someone else said earlier today, his taste was exquisite. He was always thoughtful. Most of us received gifts of Japanese candy and tea from Michael, just sent to be kind. I lost touch with him over the past few years for a variety of reasons but always thought of him fondly. When I knew him before he volunteered at an animal shelter and spent a great deal of time caring for the dogs they had, showing them love and kindness and doing what he could to find homes for them. It's a cliche I know but it does seem true. The good do die young. Tlaa, Michael.
there is no word for goodbye
Sokoya, I said, looking through
the net of wrinkles into
wise black pools
of her eyes.
What do you say in Athabaskan
when you leave each other?
What is the word
for goodbye?
A shade of feeling rippled
the wind-tanned skin.
Ah, nothing, she said,
watching the river flash.
She looked at me close.
We just say, Tlaa. That means,
See you.
We never leave each other.
When does your mouth
say goodbye to your heart?
She touched me light
as a bluebell.
You forget when you leave us,
You're so small then.
We don't use that word.
We always think you're coming back.
but if you don't,
we'll see you some place else.
You understand.
There is no word for goodbye.
~ Mary TallMountain ~ There is no word for goodbye ~
