Monday, May 20, 2013

The news editor apologizes

It’s late, you know, and I can’t tell any more what they think. The readers.

 Because I’ve been staring all night at the horror-pitch of the tornado’s sweep.
 All that is left implying what is gone.

I look, tweak, present the flesh of the page and the raw of it to the readers with their breakfast.
Here is your news. A terrible thing has happened.

The truth of it is: the twisted metal in the tree and the child in the woman’s arms – they were all I could see all night. The weight of that big child and the simple pleasure: this one is alive.

Wind bent the metal around the giant branches of the only tree standing — the way an artist would — duplicating the massive curve of the trunk; the tree’s inertia meeting and matching the wind’s blind force.
I love the tree for this defiance.

The truth of it is: we never know the whole story; we should always try.
And, I am sorry – for wanting them to see it all,
because I truly think that if we are human, we must at least witness this life.


  1. wow I wish there were words that would match the eloquence of what you have written. But thank you for making my day less harsh as your art is a ray of light in the darkness of tragedy.

  2. Yaakov,
    Thank you so much for what you say here!