ONE OF 300 VIGILS

It could have been any town square,
but it was mine,

so I fell into step, silent, silent, silent,
like our voices—now,

and the strangers welcomed another
one who grieved

as darkness slipped soullessly
into the place

where breath is born and hearts
beat quietly, sadly,

to the overhead creaking of leafless branches—
faithful but diseased elms,

benign shadows sheltering candles
from an ineludible storm

until lightning breaks the autumn night, and flames
we hold are crushed

by rain and ice, by the weight of the zeitgeist,
but our daughters are in hiding

protected by our promises of hope,
even as we walk without.

Yvette A. Schnoeker-Shorb’s work has appeared in About Place Journal, High Desert Journal, Clockhouse, Weber: The Contemporary West, Medical Literary Messenger, AJN: The American Journal of Nursing, and many other journals. She holds an interdisciplinary MA from Prescott College and has been an educator, a researcher, and an editor. She is co-founder of a 501(c)(3) nonprofit natural history press.