Their Names

Like a rain I feel but cannot see,

the names of the dead, falling.

Silences I hear between

first names, middle, last

are slivers of empty air between

lines of rain. I want

to be in these tiny silences

that cannot hold their deaths

but join them to all silence –

rests in a piece of music,

the quiet beneath a rock,

the feather on a crow,

beak closed, wings

perfectly still.

“Their Names” is from Talking Underwater (Wind Publications, 2007).