Butler Pennsylvania XIX
Grief
came flooding
over every hill
down all our streets
right into our center
the day the President
was shot
insisting that he
lie in state
there
in the heart of
our town
for three days
and nights
until they
came
with a caisson
behind which
a veiled mourner
with children walked
taking him
as we watched
across our viaduct
and on up
our steepest hill
until we lost
them
from sight.
Then for days
silence hung over
our town
until
that morning
early, when we heard
wild geese passing over
and black ribbons
fluttering
in the breeze.
from: The Butler Pennsylvania Poems ©
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