A poem by Marilyn Kallet written just after Sept. 11: Yom Kippur Remembrance September 27, 2001 They were not love letters, they were people, someone’s mother, another’s son. Brave enough to leap, cheat fire, some of them hand in hand. This Yom Kippur we pray for their families, for those “hurt,” the rabbi says. Pray for the “wounded,” she repeats. Mi shebareach l’avosaynu. Bless those in need of healing. Does our language mock them? Do we need new words for images burned into our brains— no, “burned” is a lie. Yisgadal, Va yisgadash. Praise God. We are the living. What will be the legacy of our heroes, who raced up stairs to help others and crumbled under firey rubble, under someone else’s idea of fame? Yom Kippur, we let go of anger, quiet it the way we’d calm a sick child. We forgive, ourselves, the vague ominous world. Forgive God. Free will, the rabbi says. The ashes fall again, forgive men’s hands. We see God in the faces of the rescuers, she says. I believe her. Don’t write about disaster, our Poet Laureate says. We know what happened. Tend the ordinary. I believe him, pull dead leaves from the mums. Miracle-Gro for them. Sunlight and fasting for us. Marilyn Kallet Published in “Focus 9/11: Poems Part II.” PoetsUSA. and The Love That Moves Me, Black Widow Press, 2013.
Posted on: Wed, 11 Sep 2013 14:20:49 +0000
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