The girl always wore tight jeans <br />and painted her face <br />with extravagant make-up <br />the husband also my student <br />wrote poetry <br />no one understood <br />and often landed in trouble. <br /> <br />In Brownsville, Brooklyn <br />the day after the double murder <br />rain now <br />endless fall from Heaven <br />into Earth <br />pure <br />yet tinged grey <br />from the vast sky sphere <br />and happy <br />those in lit homes <br />hearts secure pulsing <br />far from the graves <br />of two tiny children <br />smothered into eternal silence <br />by a mother’s love <br />twisted in a moment <br />into madness <br />redemption distant <br />if at all <br />the Almighty weeping <br />Brooklyn weeping <br />Bernstein weeping.<br /><br />Charles Chaim Wax<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/great-public-mourning/
