When they let us back into the building
two days later,
it felt like visiting the library of Pompeii.
our world, frozen in a single
unthinkable moment
We all did it
Silently, and instinctively,
we recapped the borrowed pens,
recycled the scrap paper
and reshelved the stray novels
abandoned by our fleeing patrons
We dusted off tables
We checked the bookdrops
We scanned the public spaces
cross-referenced our gut reactions
with a checklist of trauma responses
We took note of the missing books
by the doors, where the blood was -
absence, often the most visible
evidence of tragedy
We took deep breaths
We pushed in chairs
We ******* loose ends
on our plans for next month
We sent emails to tell folks
their classes were cancelled for the week
We gathered
listened and talked
We comforted one another
We went on doing all the small,
important, invisible work we do -
through our grief,
through our fear,
through our trauma
- for the people
I wrote this piece in the aftermath of a shooting at my place of work.