What pain is there when too much has been ground
Into the heart as if a dagger speared
Would cause to suffer wild screaming sounds
‘Til eyes are left to grieve alone in tears?
What prayer verse could have been keeping guard
Where people work and prosper next to each
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Among their kin and friends from yard to yard
And ask only to practice what they preach?
These shocking deaths for whom we now do bear
A witness to when love is lost to hate
That robs us all of playfulness and cheer
Until the burden heals its own weight.
Tonight our candle vigil air is filled
With light that reaches far into the hills.
Robert Clark, Windham
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