what if

i don’t have a flag to fly half-mast
i don’t have the words to say i miss you
i don’t have the mind to fully grasp
the fact that you won’t be with us from
here on out.

i never took the time to
research you
i knew you were amazing, but i
never quite learned why
i couldn’t quote you past I dissent (if I even
knew what a dissent was)
couldn’t explain to you why you were so important,
why we’ll miss you
so, so much.

i know i don’t get it.
i knew who you were, but not why you mattered.
i haven’t wept over the fact that you’re gone
i try to write a poem, but what if it’s only because
i think i should, because
i didn’t start writing it until there
was already a challenge asking for it?
and what if these words can’t reach you
reach anyone
what if they don’t say anything better
than the tiniest half-hearted thanks?
what if it’s not enough to
not say thank you until
everyone else was saying it
what if i’m just
following along?
now that you’re gone,
it’s like a block fell from the very bottom of
our country’s game of jenga.
what if i’m not strong enough
to help us lift it up
higher
higher
until it hangs over all of us
never to be forgotten?
i care about you, but
what if i don’t care enough?

but something in me lowered
when i heard you passed away
something made me google your name and read
a fraction of your story
something made my eyes get hot with
something that was wet when
i went to your writing prompt and
clicked respond

what if i never really knew you, but
i still miss you,
i still care?
what if i promise you i won’t
let myself forget who you were? who you are?

what if i tell you that
whether you hear
whether the words sound right
whether it means
anything at all--
i’m still so, so sorry
i still miss you
i’ll still remember you,
Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

and it might not be enough
but maybe--and maybe absolutely not--
but still, maybe it’s enough that
i wish it was.