Mitchel David Ring

Thoughts, Stories, The Poem

Nothing as Quiet

Nothing as quiet as the moment after the fireworks stop
No darkness as absolute as that which fills the space where light was.
The glazed eyes of those who fled inside return
To streets unscathed by passing horror
A confusion of fortune heavy on the minds of all.
At the center is discovered the only casualty
Splayed in a fountain beneath the hero’s downturned sword
Unknown, and so unmourned
A place of honor given to the one who drew down wrath
And kept all else from harm.
Among the crowd walks another who does mourn
Who sees through tears the celebration
And cannot tell the revelers the truth
So quietly he watches them make merry
Around the body of the beast he slew.

Image by Gavin Banns from Pixabay

Mitchel David Ring

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