Writing this, I was reminded of how Seamus Heaney’s career is filled with elegies for those who died in the Troubles; the same might be done for those dead from all violence–in this case, school shootings.
Danny Rohrbough 4/20/1999
God is the sidewalk where her son was shot,
where he bled out and died and stretched as if asleep
near the steps back up to the school.
His mother, she wanted something to keep,
something other than the gathering pool
from his knee and the gorge in his chest
and how his heart stopped before he could turn,
never knowing the pavement rose up to his rest.
(He was left there for a day in case there was more,
more bombs or guns and all the other dead,
and at some point it snowed at least, cold on cold head.)
She had those slabs jackhammered out and taken away
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