Sally Bliumis-Dunn

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).