Poem: A Simple Motion by L.J. Block
A simple motion of steel in darkness
rakes fallow the rich contours
of a quiet Berkshire night.
A red-light run, one petal
fallen from the Mother Rose.
And a wailing of despair rises
from the godless hills.
The still meadows yellowed
by a long August sun
turn ashen in an instant,
frozen white as glacial plains,
barren but for one fallen
petal of blood.
And the feeble mind of action goes home,
summons in hand,
to dream his remorse;
while the fragile skull of innocence
lies crushed and dead as memory.
The Rabbi will place no blame.
He will thank “our lord”
for giving us the strength to grieve
and we will hold on to each other
the best we can;
we who will also be swallowed whole some day
like a mouse in the throat of a serpent,
a proud demon sent from “heaven”
with no human face at all.