Yahrzeit

(YAR-tzite): from the German, now Yiddish, meaning “year’s time” or “anniversary.” The anniversary of someone’s death. 

This morning I light red candles 
and set them on the sill, 
daring the breeze 
through an open window 
to tease the flames. 

At noon I gather 
red rose petals 
and drop them 
over the creek bridge 
where I walk every day. 
I watch them 
until they float 
out of sight. 
A few catch 
on rocks and stay. 

And this afternoon 
I buy a bracelet 
and give it away. 
Someone is wearing 
your embrace 
around a thin wrist.

Tonight I eat red ribs 
with spring asparagus 
and slather my tongue 
over chocolate-covered 
strawberries, letting 
the juice run down my chin. 

When I turn in 
I keep thinking 
of deathwork 
for those who remain— 
and a grief too deep 
to write down.