To finish Hemingway

I am standing in the middle
of messy books with notes you took
and half filled bottles
of your favourite sin.
Spring cleaning won’t be easy
as I cannot say goodbye
to what has been your stuff.
To a future never gotten,
to what was us. What did remain.

You never finished Hemingway, I notice.
The bookmark’s sticking halfway in the book.
I try to read the story
from where you probably left off
and realize you’ll never know
what happened to the hero,
that you never read these words.
I read them now and try
to grasp their meaning, but in vain.

I shall never know the start.
You went away too soon for endings.
You went too soon to call it love.
I am standing in the middle of
left overs from a time, a photograph,
a dream or two, some messy books
with tears and stains once yours,
the farewell note you’ve written
and remaining memories of pain.

Spring cleaning might take ages,
the cobwebs, clutter and the dust in spite,
because I might find something
to justify your going,
to tell me why you did,
in notes you wrote on covers,
or in the choice of what you read.
You never finished Hemingway
but I shall now sustain.

Comments on: "To finish Hemingway" (15)

  1. Of course I meant “finish not finnish 🙂

  2. Oh WOW, phenomenal poem. Beautifully sad.

  3. Another melancholy love poem which you do so well! L&H xx

  4. Lovely, Ina. I am just reading a novel that talks of Hemmingway, and that reminded me that I had not finished For Whom The Bell Tolls. And now you write a poem about it too. I think I must finish it!
    Anyway, your poem is beautifully crafted, as ever, Ina.

    • Hi Angela, thank you very much. That is a nice coincidence! I never finished “The old man and the sea”, the book is still waiting… 🙂

  5. Your words are beautifully sad, Ina, which almost brought tears…xxx

  6. Hemingway had always been a hard read for me. I need quiet and time to read his books. I like the poem. I believe I have a bookmark with pages left to read also in my Hemingway novel. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.

  7. I guess we all sustain, Ina. That is not always easy, but we do. The idea of the poem is a sound one. The guy never finishes Hemingway, but the woman does, reading from where he left off, trying to understand a book that, for her, has no beginning, just an ending. Mixed in with the central idea is the rummaging through all the stuff left over after a relationship has ended, spring cleaning “the clutter and the dust in spite.” This is good work.

    • Thank you very much Thomas.
      To sustain, I think you know like no one else how difficult it is.

      I am very pleased that you say it is good work! 🙂

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