Sitting in that room, I could almost

Stand it, in the beckoning silence

Brought on by a shocking death

Belonging to and belonging in

That selfsame silence

Memory seems to rape my heart,

My soul if I do not take care

To guard against the assault

Planted words, emptied of

Thoughts as we sit here in

A hushed, quiet murmuring

Among ourselves, some mulling

Over the memory, some are

Those who feel almost nothing –

Dulled to the potent sensation

That is this death

This morning before we heard

That lamentable news, I kept

Thinking about my mom going through

My things, like that was

Really important now

I feel almost greedy thinking

That this morning

But was it really a greedy,

Selfish thought to think about

Myself when a teacher of mine

Was laying dead, in his apartment

Alone and unmourned

When I did, I did not know, did not

Even suspect

I do not know

But as they laugh and make

Jokes and try to laugh away

An unwashable pain I do

Know that my thoughts were no

Less greedy, nay, selfish then they