This is a brief note for one of my favorite poets (ever), Charles Simic, who died this week. Early in our relationship, before we knew we would love each other, my husband gave me The World Doesn’t End. I love nearly every page of that book, and there’s one poem in it that I think about often and want to share here to say goodbye to Simic.
My guardian angel is afraid of the dark. He pretends he’s not, sends me ahead, tells me he’ll be along in a moment. Pretty soon I can’t see a thing. “This must be the darkest corner of heaven,” someone whispers behind my back. It turns out her guardian angel is missing too. “It’s an outrage,” I tell her. “The dirty little cowards leaving us all alone,” she whispers. And of course, for all we know, I might be a hundred years old already, and she just a sleepy little girl with glasses.