The Trial
THE TRIAL
With shackled hands and feet
he steps clumsily
into the dock.
Pushed down into his seat
he sits
pale-faced,
jug-eared,
impassive,
young,
and gazes out
at those who would accuse him.
Listening to the people speak
of their anger,
loss and grief,
of the violence hurled
one Christchurch day
in the madness of a killing spree
when Muslims came to share and pray
in innocence and peace.
No answers
for the darkness
of that savage day
when racist hatred burned.
The trial now over,
the sentence made.
The families brave
in their resolve,
step out into the sunshine
of a Christchurch afternoon.
Supporters gather round and cheer,
greeting the families with their love,
applause at justice done,
a waiata sung.
In unity a community
can now move on,
knowing that the time for love
and healing has begun.
ARINA FISH
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