The rabbi says,

“His death tells us:

Beware the jolt,

the trap door.

Beware the moment

no one knows

until it comes.”


Leaves churn in the heat.

Women beat their breasts and wail.

He is not the man in the eulogy.

His life never knew that much joy.

His family never loved him well.


When the kaddish begins

a hidden jay

flashes over the burial tent,

squawks three times three

and joins the blue haze.



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