Her Name in His Mouth

He said it wrong. The second syllable

too long — he said it twice, same way.

The room absorbed it, capable

of that, apparently. The day

had given us enough to hold.

Nobody turned. Nobody said

actually, it's — The cold

specific hush. The pew ahead

was empty. Someone's child

two rows up made a sound and quit.

He moved on to her life. She smiled,

he said, in every room she lit.

Her name still wrong somewhere above us.

All of us there who knew it. All of us.