they were friends of my friends
i knew him once, a summer so long ago
that even my sharpest memories are a blur
i never met her, never heard her name
until i read first that she was
'unaccounted for'
and later, 'confirmed dead'
but i bet we could have been friends
if we'd ever met
such a shock to see a name i recognized
i can't let myself imagine
the shock the pain the horror the grief the rage
no no no please no
if it had been a name i saw in my inbox every day
a name carefully printed in my photo album
a name i say when asked about the pictures in my room
the people who knew them say
'they were so vibrant, so alive, so loving, so loved'
and their voices are brimming with emotion
as they choke back sobs
their grief a fresh wound
and i feel so guilty when i admit
i knew him one summer...
but i hardly remember
i try to comfort
offer my meaningless words, my shoulder,
whatever strength i have
and i wonder, morbidly
will this be the closest it ever comes to me,
or will it someday strike me right between the eyes
with a name as familiar to me as my own?
i grieve for the dead
i grieve for their families
i grieve in anticipation of my own future grief
Benjamin Blutstein and Marla Bennett
may their memories be for a blessing
and may their mourners be comforted among all the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem