Distance and Separation

There is an emptiness between Hemingway’s words A hollow sound that slides off the page The space creates distance as the Old Man wanted From the reader and voyeurs of pain “Distance between himself and the day he hauled in that great fish “Distance from that last great battle calling out from beyond his reach “Distance from the arena, where the horns got close but death got closer “And distance from the many women he tried to love and failed” No matter how far he lived afield, be it Paris, Havana, or Ketchum In no place was there distance enough or where his words could be safe The separation and memory loss became deafening and finally too much As he gave in to the distance —one last and final time. (Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)