When the rupture came,
Soren Kierkegaard
found loss not absolute.
Connection persevered.
Regina was given back
To that corkscrew mind,
In the twisted body,
Which strutted through
Fashionable Copenhagen,
Impressing its psyche
On the bourgeoisie.
Much later, still impelled
By teeming emptiness,
And owing to Regina all,
Or so he thought,
He left his worldly goods
To a startled married woman
Whose vision of illusion
Could not stretch
To compass his reality.
Were they an appropriate gift?
As she was given back
The books were given –
A legacy, he felt, for her
Breeding nothingness –
Though his absence did not
Startle her to take him back
With all he might have given
Beside his worldly goods.
©Terry Hodgson2020
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