Postcard

each of us shaken by the events of that day
whatever expression we tried to convey.
that face we wore was cruel and crudely shaped
luminous abominations flared out of the angry sky
best perhaps that We, battered children whose dead
have killed in wars as well, face the demon
of our own injustice and turn not our hand
against ourselves {when we had other plans}
Best that we turned away from flickering lights
to face the faces of our day
and fill the steps of the ones gone.