still the sirens
Still the sirens
stitch the night air with terror—
pierce hearing’s membranes
with shrieks of pain and fear:
still they weave the mesh
that traps the heart in anguish,
flash bright bars of power
that cage memory in mourning and loss.
Still sirens haunt the night air.
Someday there will be peace
someday the sirens will be still
someday we will be free.
Dennis Brutus 1924 -2009
