Top Menu

Dear Reader, we place these articles at no charge on our website to serve all the people who cannot afford Monthly Review, or who cannot get access to it where they live. Many of our most devoted readers are outside of the United States. If you read our articles online and you can afford a subscription to our print edition, we would very much appreciate it if you would consider purchasing one. Please visit the MR store for subscription options. Thank you very much. —Eds.

For Howard

A light has gone out
and we see and understand far less
of who and what we are
of the task only begun
in the space your life carved out
for us to follow and lead on.

In 1967 in a vast militant protest
like a hundred others in which we both
marched, spoke, were battered by police
we met. We agreed, we argued,
we shared meals, we wrestled, we praised—
an ongoing dialogue cherished
and now cut off. There is nothing
left to do but continue the work of freedom.

Marge Piercy ( is the author of seventeen novels, most recently Sex Wars; seventeen volumes of poetry, most recently The Crooked Inheritance; a memoir Sleeping with Cats; two nonfiction books; and a CD of her political poems, Louder, We Can’t Hear You Yet. She has been an activist most of her life. She wrote this poem ten days after Howard Zinn’s death, January 27, 2010, and read it at Zinn’s memorial, April 3.

Comments are closed.