advent journal: sandy hook

I tried prose tonight
but all I could do was drop
a gravel load of anger
in the middle of the page
this is no time for stones

I tried to be relevant
but all I could do was take
my best shot in the ranting wars
in hopes of getting hits
this is not a competition

I tried to be hopeful
so all I could do was turn
off the media assault and sit
quietly with my helplessness
under the sorrow and stars

I wrote, instead, a poem
an act of faith and futility
a word-shield against real bullets
a whisper in the whirlwind
but Rachel is still weeping

Peace,
Milton