A Poem by Monica Korycinska

by Carl Kruse

My friend Monica’s mom ended her life following years of chronic pain and Monica penned this poem for her. At first I thought Monica had not titled the poem and I was thinking of a title like the poems of Emily Dickinson, which is to say using the first line of the poem. In that vein, this poem would be “If I Only Could.” But before I could title it as such, Monica told me she had indeed given the poem a title, which is, “Too Late.” I like both titles for the poem, but according to the wishes of the author, here is “Too Late.“

Too Late

If I only could

Turn back time

To when you were here in this world.

Relive again all that I missed with you,

Understand your point of view,

I would.

If I only could

Fill the hollow inside,

Circulate to where you used to be,

Circumnavigate the pain your absence left behind,

Draw a supernatural circle around you,

I would.

If I only could

Toss a coin and have a wish,

Flit to where you are now,

Feel the flapping of your wings,

A sensation so warm in my limbs,

I would.

If I only could

Find a magical abacus,

Broil a secret potion

To bring your presence back,

Revisit our last days in slow motion,

I would.

If I only could

Make the universe flat,

Circumvent the space,

Find the cat with the crazy hat,

Shrink the minutes so we can meet again,

I would.

If I only could

Turn back time,

If only to do everything again in the same way,

To have a minute or two

With you,

I would.

October 4, 2020

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More poetry from friends: Otho Campbell and also here.
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