Peace to our Innocents, oh gentle
peace to these sacrificial lambs we offer
once again to the monied and mighty,
who send in return their thoughts and prayers
and speak of prices that must be paid, their hands
held out for more and more. The cost of freedom,
Light has fled the garden,
like the laughter of shining children
running to their next wide day.
Flowers should not meet their winter in spring.
The sin is ours; we consent again and always
to these savage partings, surrendering our tender buds
to the hollow gods we bow before, another payment to endure
before we settle and sigh once more, indolent and monstrous,
draped in the silence of our darker world, waiting,
hoping for better days.
Peace to the people of Uvalde, TX. We must change. We must do better.
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