The Night

November 3, 2009
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The night was cold
And damp
As if showered in tears
No soul moved
No mouse scurried
For the watchful eyes of gunmen were unrelenting
I would not be surprised
If a thousand or so died that night
If a million or so died inside of sorrow
The silence that followed
Was the most profound thing that night
Shattered by the sounds of weeping children
This night
Should all but be forgotten

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