Morning: November 3rd, 1979

by Jean Rodenbough

Apr. 29, 2008

[Jean wrote this poem for entry in the "Muse on Greensboro" Poetry Contest, part of Greensboro's bicentennial celebration which is currently in full swing. We're glad to include it here as we work to remember the past in a way that transforms our future.]

How long does it take to forget?
How long before the wounds
of that day vanish from scarred
earth, hearts, memory?
November was a cruel month.

Martyrs' names engraved on stone:
Jim, César, Mike, Sandi, Bill.
Other witnesses survive to tell
how once upon a time
an angry force reinforced
by civic power
unleashed its terror.

Weeping lingers, present and solitary.

Time is not the ruler here
but urgent justice calls.
Bigotry on trial wins
its brief day in court
only to be undone
by community, by leaders
who see beyond the times,
who hear the call for unity.

The dark healing of the night
will assuage the day’s pain.
Morning’s truth will reconcile
by trust, in unshadowed sunlight.
Justice will be realized
through the distance between then
and now. Take hope.
Daylight comes.

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