Poem for Friday and Chihuly Chandeliers

Vivian, we’re listening 

By Arielle Korman 

I think of you,

leaning over your porch for years

as the sky over Gaza turned orange

and blue and then orange again.

I wonder when peace died

and fear it was long before

you were born. Lifetimes before

the sand and the sun

and the promise of a communal

way of life brought you

to the place where you died.

Maybe I’m lacking imagination.

I can’t see what you could.

There’s so much I’m unable to imagine.

I called your death unimaginable, too,

but then

the sun had gone down early,

New York was so cold and I’m sorry,

I pictured it.

Your scarves,

your posters, every thank you gift

from your friends, engulfed

as the southern air turned

wholly to flame.

You, crouching in your

safe room, every piece of your story

eating you from the inside.

And now it’s eating me, and

I just needed to tell you.

I never knew you but I have this feeling

I could have been you, long ago,

the North American sixties behind me,

the corporate, saccharine eighties

before me, looking for hope and finding it

in the place where you died.

Maybe, wherever you are now,

watching the sky turn black

from far far away, you can help us.

Maybe in that unimaginable moment

when you realized you were leaving this place,

something else dawned on you, something important.

Would you whisper it in the wheat fields?

In the shallow breath of a still-living child?

In the flutter of a small paper sign

in the middle of a thunderous rally?

Vivian, we’re listening.

-------- 

Because Poets.org apparently only gives voice to Palestinian deaths. Forward editor’s note: "This poem was written in loving memory of the Israeli peace activist Vivian Silver, who was confirmed dead on Nov. 13, after authorities identified her remains at her home through DNA testing. Silver, 74, was previously assumed to be among the more than 200 people held hostage in Gaza following the Oct. 7 attack. She is now believed to have been killed by Hamas during the Oct. 7 massacre." 

Friday was a sunny, balmy day -- over 45 degrees! I spent the morning doing chores and being furious about things on the internet, where apparently there are no safe spaces these days if you're Jewish and your own friends on the left and right both will tell you why you're wrong if you object to the term "genocide" being thrown around -- then we had lunch and went out to Target (for cat litter) and Kohl's (so I could pick up a warm sweater, which I realized last weekend I really need). 

We took a walk to Idylwood when we got home, so we got to see eagles and ducks in sunlight for a change, though there were surprisingly few people there for such a nice day. Then we came back, talked to my parents who have a foot of snow on the ground, had maintenance come over for a while to check on a bathroom issue, and ate dinner. Now we're watching third season White Collar with lots of fun guest stars. Chandeliers (and reflections) and a tower at Chihuly Garden and Glass: