IN THE EARLY DAYS of a crisis that is killing people and shows no sign of ending, I wrote, “to be alive is to carry survivor guilt.” It’s what I feel often, not just about war, but about violence, illnesses, and disasters everywhere, yet this was the first time I named the connection I feel between living and feeling guilt. I realized I didn’t want to get stuck in guilt—or grief, rage, sadness, or despair. Feel them, yes, but not get lost in their absolutism and reactivity, because if I’m lost, then the possibility that I might be part of any solution is also lost. What to do?
As a poet, I go to poetry
