As suddenly as it had begun,
it was over:
the waiting shattered,
their holds broken
on either side, the shout,
the crowded faces turning,
the hands and eyes
reaching for you,
fumbling at windows, portholes, doors,
straining, searching for you
as if you were not there -

In the terse space
of a single shot,
your life traversed a breath
across the stairs,
flinging us headlong into the abyss
of the long assassin years.


  1. A slight re-working of one of my earliest socially-aware poems, on the return to his homeland of Benigno Aquino Jr., a Philippine senator shot on the tarmac of the Manila International Airport. His death led to his widow, Corazon Aquino, becoming a populist symbol and, eventually, President.

    Short link - http://bit.ly/s4tarmac

  2. I have a special affinity for your history poems. And they are always about something I know nothing about, and when I've read I know more than is said.


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