Joyce Benson, After Charles Olson Poem by Dennis Ryan

Thursday, March 9, 2017; Tuesday morning, March 21, 2023

'Let me confess that we two must be twain,
Although our undivided loves are one.'
—Shakespeare, 'Sonnet #36'

I met you very late, but was happy I did—
that station wagon of yours, the doors welded
shut—I have told Lily, others about such—
belated, too late, yet hopeful all at once.
(I was twenty-five at the time.) . You read
Shakespeare to me, most specifically his
29th Sonnet, which you and Charles Olson
had read together, and here I am tonight
drinking a beer, Shakespeare's sonnets
at hand, reading sonnets 29 thru 36, as
I remember you, my memories of youth
and aging colliding, me in or approaching
your state then, in 1976, you now long dead,
never to read Shakespeare, Charles, or
your verse again. So saying, allow me
to read some verses through this blank
darkness, down this dark channel that
finishes us all off, yet reunites, our loves
final yet undivided. Lily, are you more
afraid of yourself, of what you might do?
Was Joyce Benson too at your age?
She was, you are equally beautiful.
In time you may discover you never
had a better friend than me. (In time.
You have a lot of growing up to do.)
All of this, I admit, is hard to foresee,
and you are leaving here for New York
City in a few months time you tell me,
so a lot will go unresolved, at least for
now, the time being, time being all.