TRIOLET FOR ERIC
After awhile, we gathered in the rain.
When someone dug his hole, we let him down,
then quieted. Cold words cannot explain—
after awhile, we gathered in the rain
and scrubbed our consciences. There were no stains
on us, no blood to trickle to the ground
after awhile. We gathered in the rain
when someone dug his hole. We let him down.
—from Rattle #18, Winter 2002
Tribute to Teachers