Larger than Life Was He

The living must ultimately

triumph over the dead

and outlive them in moderate calm,

In twenty weeks

my grief gave way to faint stirrings of guilt.

In the gauzy sleep of dawn

I had not lain against him

for fifteen years or more

I had tried as satiated wives did

to wean him off desire

My celibacy flowed like a river in spate

between the twin beds in our room

There are no memories that enthral,

no fond phrase capsuled in thought,

It was never a husband and wife bond.

We were such a mismated pair,

Yet there were advantages, I admit

he was free to exploit and I was free

to be exploited.

We were quits at every game we played

I could have been Sita to his Rama

had I been given half a chance.

I reared three sons,

he was too busy to watch them grow

but he it was who wore the faded face

that they recognised as their father’s.

His was the heavy tread

heard on the gravel at dusk

He peered into his office files

till the supper turned cold

and the children got up to sleep

I cannot recollect a film

a play or a concert he took us to

or a joke which together we shared.

He was like a bank locker

steely cold and shut

or a filing cabinet that

only its owner could unlock

Not for a moment did I own him.

Only a few bed-bound chores

executed well, tethered him to me.

Emotion was never a topic

brought up in our home

although for long it remained

as grist for the tales that the night

and I, combined, produced.

Do I miss him?

Of course, I do, for larger than life

was he. I miss that brusque voice

sending out the trays

hugging their manuscripts

meekly as unwed mothers did

their illegitimate offspring

I miss his censoring my daily mail

his screening each phone call

and the insulation of his care.