the night i learned of my friend's murder
alone on the sabbath
grappling, as if
my own natural ability
to breathe easily
was shut-down
my own self closed in
an air tight darkened room
first thinking of how i was light
freely breathing on my woods walk
before i knew of the tragedy
how he was bludgeoned from behind
while i was probably hugging a tree
in my innocent non-knowing
not an accident, an intentional
stabbing of another
an intrusion,that took
his breath, blood, and a life
a senseless act of violence
perpetrated by an angry
out of bounds person
who never knew
the word compassion---
while the victim's
two small children lay dreaming
in their beds---
the older boy, soon to be
seen as a man on his Bar Mitvah
only two weeks from the horror
the younger girl, still innocent
among dolls and stuffed unicorns
the magic of family destroyed
by the single act of an intruder
as if hitler walked into a Monet painting-
and insisted that the lilies instead
of being soft pastels, be bloodied red
~words and photo~kate lamberg (c)'14
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