In Memory of and Dedicated to Those Who Lost Their Lives in the Oklahoma City Bombing

  TRAGEDY'S HOPE

An aching sort of quiet hangs

Suspended as it were,

Between then and now

Holding in firm embrace

The muted pain of sorrow.

It is, as if, by lonely isolation

The quiet of now may

Retrieve the shuffle of feet

Or catch an unexpected word

Thereby rising above the horror

Laid bare by remembering.

Against the hot orange

Of a setting sun, slabs of

Salvaged granite lie beneath

Soft trickles of water

Forever cool,  forever barren

While granite arms stretch high

In a perpetual prayer of need

For what is and was and is yet to be.

A sighing breeze whispers softly

Causing shadows to tilt and turn

Revealing empty chairs that stand

Alone, rigid, plain devoid

Of life and flame

And one realizes it is

Only by remembering

They can live for us again.

I have published this poem before. but wanted to share it again because of Memorial Day. It has been edited somewhat, primarily to improve the rhythm.

 

 

 

Pussy Willows

Spring Artistry