Ursula K. LeGuin, 'The Vigil For Ben Linder'

[duathir.livejournal.com]

Cross-post from war_poetry:

The Vigil for Ben Linder

This rain among the candle flames
under the heavy
end of April evening
falls so softly on us
listening
that it dissolves us
like salt.
A child frets.
The grieving over names.
The same anger.
There are still far countries.
Mayday! they signal,
it’s sinking, crashing, it’s going
down now! Mayday!
But it used to mean
you went into the garden
early, that first morning,
to make a posy.
for a neighbor’s door,
or boldly offered —
“These are for your daughter! ”—
laughing, because she wasn’t up yet.
They were maybe twelve years old.
Afterwards
they went to different schools.
The bringing of light
is no simple matter.
The offering of flowers
is a work of generations.
Young men are scattered
like salt on a dry ground.
( Not theirs, not theirs, )

by Ursula K. LeGuin

Ben Linder was killed April 28, 1987.