How does one even start to grieve
for ten, for twenty, for a hundred?
How does one even start to grieve
when headstones reach a thousand?

How does one even start to grieve
at tens of thousands, fifty thousand,
when the interring earth is flying,
the crematory flames arising?

How does one even start to grieve?
One grieves for one, each one,
a precious human soul, and with
a hand of comfort, weeps.