Difficult enough?

From Peter Sacks' elegy "For Richard Turner" (a poem that has long been important to me):

You wrote on the back page of my last essay
('Political Education in The Republic')
'Good ideas, but style too literary.
Use of images evades the final point.'

When I left,
you thought me still evasive,
trying to pass off
my own fear of suffering
as a form of wisdom.
I'd said, 'There's nothing left
for us, not even martyrdom.'
You smiled:
'At least stick to political
philosophy. Remember,
literature's too easy.'


Long after midnight,
walking through the pines
into a thin sea wind,
startled as each line of water
shatters in the dark,
I half-prepare to meet you
further up the shore;
as though your dying meant
they'd only driven you out
to lead a half-life
here in the wind, this walk
between the water and pines
of another country.

Richard, if I keep to words,
believing nothing in our history
will make this right,
will what I say at last
be difficult enough for you?