In response to a sad poem, on a day when I could not bear more strong emotions..
(original poem reproduced and linked below)
The long black hair all tangled in
the dirt was all that remained
of that memory, but then
There were others
Flowering over his shoulder
The ripple of teenage laughter
When one of them was found.
The original heartwrenching, twist-the-heart-till-it-can-hurt-no-more was:
I came back from the funeral and crawled
around the apartment, crying hard,
searching for my wife’s hair.
For two months got them from the drain,
from the vacuum cleaner, under the refrigerator,
and off the clothes in the closet.
But after other Japanese women came,
there was no way to be sure which were
hers, and I stopped. A year later,
repotting Michiko’s avocado, I find
a long black hair tangled in the dirt.
Thank you to @jeetthayil who posted this online.