We visit parks and walk historic trails,
tracing the lives of those who've gone before
and trying to imagine their travails:
the hunger, the losses; the courage at their core.
But this trail, this, its bones stained red as blood,
that wanders through the woods down to a dock
to mark the path my Asian brothers trod,
prodded by soldiers and herded off the rock
that was their island home and is now mine;
this trail's injustice haunts our communal heart.
Betrayal marks this path. And though no shrine
can heal the split that tore this town apart,
this bleak reminder of what happened then
drives us to swear "Fear not: never again."
No comments:
Post a Comment