The Last Time I Saw You—for Dwale (Poem)
Added 2021-07-16 02:16:36 +0000 UTCRecently, Dwale, a writer, poet, and friend of mine committed suicide. What happened was tragic and sudden, and has affected many writers I know. Dwale (it/its pronouns) was well known in the community and a joy to interact with. Its partner has asked to keep the details of what happened private, but the Furry Writer's Guild organized two events this week to remember it with. For one of those, people shared poems they wrote about Dwale, and I'd like to share my contribution here. You can read all of the poems also on the FWG forum.
The Last Time I Saw You—for Dwale
It was in a cool northwest October where I first met you.
And it was in a warm southeast May where I last saw you.
Among the bustle of thousands of furs. We sat down as we planned,
And we talked about world building, about dreams, to a room full of people.
There’s no record of this now except for our notes, a little over two years later,
And an entire pandemic between us, but I knew, when it was over,
And we returned to Atlanta, I was going to see you again in a room,
And we’d both be talking to a crowd about something—
That was until it happened, and you were gone.
Maybe it’s my fault we weren’t closer, but you touched so many people
Who was I to demand all your attention?
I wish I had said more, but I know I at least said something,
And I was so happy when I had a reason to send you a private message,
a week before you were gone, to ask a question of you—
Now I only have what you told me and what you wrote to look back at.
There are still things I didn’t ask I wanted to know,
Words to seek your advice on, that I should have asked about—
But then I never thought you would be done so soon.
I don’t understand what happened, but back when I saw you last,
When I walked out of the room, you were pleased about the panel,
It had gone well, you were happy, and you were smiling,
As you thanked me for asking you to do this with me,
Before we were both on to our next things, as so many before us,
Through the cavernous spine of Atlanta.
