This poem is an old friend, though one I've not seen in some years. It is lovely to see it again here.

Much has changed since I last encountered this poem. I've lost a grandfather, for one, who in turn had lost large chunks of memory before he died.

I find myself wondering whether views on this poem really come down to how the word 'disaster' is interpreted. The last stanza puts me in mind of the phrase 'anything that doesn't kill you makes you stronger'.

I'm reminded of another poem about loss. I'm going to have to track it down and post a link.

While I enjoy poetry, I don't actually know much about poetry forms. I'm off to research villanelles for a bit.