Merle Feld’s Poem for Jane

The pain of your loss
for Jane Trigere, 1948-2018

Lady Jane, with your exquisitely chiseled features,
unending curiosity, your sly delicious wit,
your wide streak of stubbornness,
and the sharp cactus prickle
guarding luminosity within – wanting

to love, wanting to be loved, wanting
so much. With your myriad gifts –
of hand, of eye, of heart, imagination,
intelligence – with your outrageously
abundant gifts, you could never

have achieved all your dreams –
your dreams and your gifts
were without limit. Lately
I declare my truth to friends, If I lived
to 120, I would not have exhausted

all my ideas of what to create.
Jane, my sister, that was you.
In the end, Jane, I hope you were at peace
with the life you had lived,
pleased with all you had created.

I found many helpful words for you
while you were alive, but found
these last particular words only now,
too late. I hope somehow in the end
you knew. You knew, after all, so much.

The pain of your loss is quite raw.
I have barely begun to cry.
I’m not finished talking
and I’m not finished

Lady Merle
November 29, 2018

©Merle Feld