calling up

Sometimes people die and
lots of people care but are not close
and somebody has to be the person
to call them up
and say,
I have bad news, the worst news, I’m sorry

I remember when I was called
with bad news, the worst news

I don’t know who
I would have expected
to call me
but I don’t think it was the someone
who did

I wonder who would call
the people who ought to know
if some morning I wasn’t in this world?

I wonder if people would get left out
and never know? Or find out years too late?

Sometimes I am afraid that
that has happened, and somebody
I hold dear and was once close to
is not in this world and I
grew too far to be alerted and
don’t know.

I wonder
how
to prevent
such a thing,

and I wonder if
such small isolations
are really just
what the world is made of.

Mid October Berkshire County

This small room is
lined with books
Even without my glasses
I can see:

Donne
“Jewish Stories One
Generation Tells
Another”
Chaucer
Phaedra
Choletz Chaim
on the Talmud

The fall colors
are not bright this weekend
the sun was out yesterday
but not today

and I remember how
time with my family
in a family place

has always meant
for me
time mostly
with my thoughts.