Ten Years Without You. For So It Happens.

Ten years without you. For so it happens.

Days make their steady progress, a routine

That Is merciful and attracts nobody.

Already, like a disciplined scholar,

I piece fragments together, past conjecture

Establishing true sequence of pain;

For so it is proper to find value

In a bleak skill, as in the thing restored:

The long-lost words of choice and valediction