My words may turn into stones/as easily as a man/turned one day into silence. - Naomi Replansky

No god came down, my brothers,/To breathe on them, my sisters./Their bodies made a mountain/That never touched the heavens./Whose lightning struck the killers?/Whose rain drowned out the fires?/My brothers and my sisters,/No angel leaned upon them./No miracle could shield them/From the cold human hands.

Tomorrow we cross/The borders of loss

I learned the speech of birds; now every tree/Screams out to me a baleful prophecy.