REMEMBERING MY UNCLE

Snowy day—

I can’t write mournful lines.

On the bus back to Harbin

all those icy miles,

snowbanks flashing past,

I can’t grasp I’m leaving you forever,

or rather you’re forever leaving us.

Someone coughs on the crowded bus,

its old engine’s breath drones thick and heavy.

Your face yellow wax, like the death-veil after.

In agony you passed the last days

of your fiftieth. Going over your life

I recall something long forgotten,

that time at a movie

when the power cut,

you said how shattering

to leave the end unfinished.

Now no one to refund your ticket,

nor can the possible plot

be told.