and the great clock tower
resounding over the empty street
tolls out the days and years
that have slipped away.
It seems the moment of loss
is no less real;
the harrowing leap,
the burning,
the choke of smoke and dust
that clogs the throat;
the tears that blur the vision still.
How many years must pass
before we can release the grasp
of sorrow and begin to feel
the mandate that lies beneath?
Remember, yes,
but re-member as well;
find a way to join
what has been split;
repair what has been broken,
unite what has been torn apart by greed.
No comments:
Post a Comment