These dates I used to keep:
February 21st, we’d celebrate your birth, a war baby born under the name of Mars
That summer at ‘The Lamb’, August 20th drinking up sunshine and a chance meeting. It was Bashert 1, you’d say
Years later, September 26th, when the rain stopped, we wed in the autumn of our years
October 7th – a brand singed into my heart when you departed life
So there is only one date for us now, ringed on the calendar and torn off each year. It comes to 8 and counting…
– “often you I mourn, and with chalice
of sweet bitterness”
- Yiddish for meant to be ↩︎
And We Must Never Forget 7/10/23
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