A poem about what a mourner experiences, hidden away from the rest of the world, sometimes hidden even from friends or community members
A poem about the challenges of finding poetry (and meaning I can hold onto) during shloshim for my father
A poem about that first day after shiva, when a mourner walks into a room of people for the first time. About my experience mourning Papa (my father Ken Kipnes).
Seeking to extract meaning from the shiva minyan, we held onto the stories that brightened that house of mourning.