An enemy died today. My thoughts he
walls from cares of treacheries imagined.
Are you now peaceful, foe, who newly see
the wreckage of your life’s cause delusioned?
The monuments are rising. Tears will be
wept by those who knew and loved you, leaving
me to fast dissolve my hate or find a
grander axe to grind, or else believing
that the pedestal they kept you on was
not your choice, and love not rage the blinder
that divided you from my view because
I too wish unity and good for all,
confuse an angry word as proof of flaws…
Rest easy, then, until your next brave call.
© Elaine Stirling, 2011
Image from 2006, photographer unknown