the only truth is grief and grief is the sound of silence
JENNIFER WOLKIN
in memory of Anthony WG
some say it was selfish to leave
a family bereft—left to identify
the body’s bold scars
a young life snuffed with blood
on no hands but its own
but I know we can’t measure the truth
of your suffering
even when the shiva house
is full of guests saying the
customary Baruch Dayan
Haemet
the only tangible truth is the grief, and the grief-
now a noose with your name, and your name-
a call with no response
even if it’s shouted in a
hundred different timbres
from lungs teeming
with the toxic soot of losing the last
person I thought I’d be
burying/before/me
∘∘∘