a sad lack of information

Yes, I just wrote some words about a poem by Laura Kasischke for a paper... The poem, "Childhood Friend," was addressed (surprisingly) to a deceased "Childhood Friend," yet very little of the poem dealt with the friend directly. This great lack of information actually made the poem even more saddening; for the speaker of the poem starts by asking:

Is this what you asked for, my friend, these words, is this
what you meant when you said--?

Gulp. What did she say? Why don't we know? How could the speaker ask this question and publish it without ever finishing the question or telling us its answer? The speaker's loss--her probable regret--now becomes the reader's loss and unfulfilled desire to know that which cannot be known: the question, the answer, and the "Childhood Friend" who is left out of much of the poem. This is a downright difficult thing to think about. Can that be what you'd call regret?

I thought I had little to say about that poem.