All Evidence to the Contrary

Summary

"All Evidence to the Contrary" is a poignant reflection on the author's personal grief and the memories left behind after the death of her husband during the Covid pandemic.

Abstract

In "All Evidence to the Contrary," Elizabeth Barnesco pens a heart-wrenching poem titled "Poetry from the Junkman’s widow," capturing the raw emotions of loss and remembrance. The poem recounts the discovery of her late husband's glasses, a tangible reminder of their final moments together. She vividly describes the pain of their separation due to illness and the loneliness exacerbated by the Covid pandemic. Despite the hope of a brief respite, the harsh reality of death soon follows. The author finds solace in her son's support and the security of their home, vowing to rebuild her life with gratitude for the time shared with her husband, acknowledging that while their life together has changed, it continues to influence her journey.

Opinions

The author expresses a deep sense of loss and heartache over the death of her husband.
She reflects on the loneliness and isolation that Covid-induced illnesses brought, intensifying the emotional toll.
There is a sense of bitterness and sorrow about the swift parting from her loved one.
The poem conveys a mix of despair and hope, as the author acknowledges the pain of loss but also the love and support from her son.
The author is determined to move forward, building upon the cherished memories of her past life with her husband.
The poem suggests that the bond they shared endures beyond death, influencing her resilience and future.

Poetry from the Junkman’s widow

Today I found your glasses, long forgot, tucked in my bag that dreadful, final day, throat clogged with grief, as to the parking lot, I all but ran, in haste to get away.

Your dried tear-crust, on half-moons made of glass: Dread evidence, to once more wrench my heart. So thick – long hours alone, you had to pass, those endless days and nights we were apart.

Since Covid, illness is a lonely road – just one more heart-break added to the sum of torment piled upon your dreadful load – at least, when death was near, they let me come.

One night of hope we had, I dared to dream: I knew ‘twas false, but took it as it came; with morning, naked truth became a scream: Ice-cold, pale death descended, just the same.

I left your shell behind, and travelled home. The snow had stopped, as if to speed your flight – You did not end, but left this world, to roam. My tears fell, boundless, as you slipped from sight.

You left me grounded here, bereft, alone with tear-streaked cheeks and bitter, broken heart. Your absence, like a knife-slash to the bone – How could it be so quickly, time to part?

Yet still, despite such loss, you left me rich: Our son stood by me, every dreadful phase; Our home secure, safe haven ever, which will be my solace, til my end of days.

I may be lost, yet still I’m well prepared: I’ll build my life anew, but build upon my gratitude for all the days we shared: Our life together changed – but still goes on.

Elizabeth Barnesco / July, 2021 (Day 142)

All Evidence to the Contrary

Poetry from the Junkman’s widow

Elizabeth Barnesco - Medium

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