October 30, 2018, three of eleven killed at The Tree of Life Synagogue were buried.
One of the three was husband to my co-worker and friend.


Eleven lives taken
at The Tree of Life -- miles away,
our writing workshop canceled
our chance for defiance
however small

I waited at the funeral
with hundreds to pass security,
newsboys on the street asking
with their cameras, Who is afraid?

I watched her halting walk to his grave,
reluctant like a child.

I followed like a child
with a shovelful of earth
to cover him.

I listened to the learned
seeking meaning, hundreds crowded
into the Beth Shalom basement,
police in armor at the entrance.

When the doors shut behind us,
I noticed the dampness
and a draft on my bare neck.

Today was eleven months,
hundreds standing witness
in the warmth beneath the trees.

I still live so I was there.
I will do more
is next.

Audio Reading: http://tinyurl.com/y4q8uy7p