-for Varavara Rao It settled on me just before dawn the day after I came to pay my respects— heavy, like a thick wool blanket on a not-quite cold night. It stayed until the scratch of a distant grass broom swept it from the room, like a gentle cloud of dust. I did not really know him, so I had no clear right to grieve, but I knew what he meant to you, and when I saw him lying there in the company of those who loved him, I remembered an afternoon long ago when I found my own grandfather lying still in his bed, and how my aunt and I sat with him— and I was so sure I could see him breathing, but it was only me that was shaking. This is not a poem about bail pleas or fascism. Every word I write is against fascism.
Let Us All Rest in the Company of Those Who Love Us