Over the quivering surface of the stream,
The moon issued a silent scream.
The fog of war flowed silently adrift,
The pain of the night was silent and swift.
A moth fluttered in the silent breeze,
Surrounded by the scent of death and disease.
And yet it seemed it hadn’t a care,
About the senseless slaughter of others
who did not quite as well fare.
But as dawn began to appear,
Away went the pain, the despair, the fear.
The silence of a new day,
Seemed to deafen what had come to stay.
Even when there is the darkness of the cloud,
There is still light all around.
The Library will be closed on Monday, January 18 for Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.