Oklahoma City Bombing Grieving For Those Who Died
I only hear the silence as I stride,
Twixt granite chairs neatly set in rows.
The 169 chairs epitomize each life,
Now neath a sea of grass that grows.
My psyche periodically visits this place,
All be it, here, their Spirits do not rest.
However, a Monument and Reflection pool,
Usher memories, as if at their behest.
Still I visualize a chain link fence,
With images, blossoms, Pandas and such.
A transitory memorial that reaches out,
To asphyxiated lives, as if to touch.
For certain, I dare not challenge,
The eternal rest, of those who sleep.
But pausing at each chair, in silence,
I recall this day's events and weep.
I would to God, that casualties,
Could discern today, my thoughts about.
Then from the quiescence of this place,
Would emerge an angelic shout.
For I tire of silence.
Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2008
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment