In the silence, I try
To remember them all, but
Two minutes twice a year
Is never long enough.

Does anyone else close their eyes
And try to picture
What it all means,
Aftershocks from the hammer blows
Of young names being engraved
Into stone more expensive
Than their lives?

Every one is an empty space
Around which lives must be
Reshaped: the true cost is
The potential the world has lost, and
The millions of contorted souls
That have been denied comfort.

In the silence, I try
To remember them all, but
All I see is the selective amnesia
That forgets how to learn
Not to add to their number.

11/11/2021

Posted on 11/23/2021
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