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.