Yahrzeit, fragment by John Copley Alter
John Alter on several pressing subjects wrapped within a personal narrative
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September now is burdened with yahrzeit.
My grandmother
turns well into her third century.
My childhood
friend turns seventy-four. Our war
against Islam
turns nineteen. And you, my brother,
has it been three years
since you held in your strong hands
a cricket
bat? Indifferent to history
the season
turns, but the football
pitch is silent. Autumn
leaves will fall on empty stadiums.
History harvests aristocracies.
Who speaks Latin
anymore? Time
passes.