ANNIVERSARY Poem by Vrouwkje Tuinman

Your former teacher wrote to me that she
had given you a real Smurf house.
How happy you were. The brave child she
knew, goodness knows how long ago.

I'm not supposed to write that
my heart is breaking, as that is not poetry.
Besides, my heart is not supposed to break.
It is now five interminable years ago.

There is a video recording of the house,
and, much worse, of you stuffing it with chicks
that pop out on the other side looking for their
mother. What has become of them?

It is too big to put into words,
and I'm desperately trying to think of a joke.
Something about you being Papa Smurf. Is it
much farther, Papa Smurf? Yes, it is.