For Ilene, Sarah, and Josh

This street-wise New Yorker who sensed even shadows as he walked down the block,

This scientist who searched for causes in hidden cracks and crannies of mind and soul,

This devoted husband who happily tried to anticipate every need,

This father who strove to be mindful so he might always be present,

This athlete who looked for the edge, a passing shot or jumper off the dribble,

This meticulous planner of distant trips who left nothing to chance,

This adventurer who patiently stared into Lake Superior's depths to divine the source
of Dylan's genius,

This man who entered a room, took one look, and knew when a kind word was needed,

How can Death warn a man if nothing escapes him?

It had to rip the sun from the sky until his cosmos went dark.

It had to shake the earth beneath his feet until he was swallowed up.

Death took him the only way it could, unawares.

But stealth will never breech the stronghold of our memory

October 2017




All written material © Bill Schechter, 2016
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