Shall we speak of the dead? 

 

Shall we speak of the dead?

He asked

before the removal;

perhaps it is not too late to say

I will join you then

in speaking of the dead

who will begin?

 

The first I knew was when

walking together through the small dark opening

that led to knowledge she said

"My father died in the summer"

taught sinew stretched

"Did it hurt?"

then snapped.

She answered slowly

one word without tears.

  

At this hour of remembering

this hallowed even

at his invitation

I recall her father.