we had a blast in Atlanta

warm sweat trickled down our backs as we sat
rapt
strong young women and men who had lived
their whole lives for these two weeks
of time
walked slowly, proudly, into the arena
where they would be tested

we watched in awe as with fluid grace
heroes of our time
soared into the air
knifed through water
speared the shifting winds with arrows, bullets,
bicycles
their own bodies
challenging our understanding of limitations

in an overflow of exuberance we gathered
in a warm caressing Southern night
at day’s end
those who had watched the feats from
coveted stadium benches
those who merely wanted to touch, to feel
the joy, the strength, the celebration of body,
endurance, courage, patriotism, hope
who had no tickets to see them embodied, but
felt them in their hearts anyway

in that darkness music flowed
lifting us up higher, pressing bodies
moving with the happiness of youth
in a place where all nations share
the harmony with no barriers
a boom split the night
a musical climax? screams say otherwise
bodies now pressing for escape
as some lay weeping

sadness attends the watchers
the day after
as the soaring, the patriotism, continue
hope seems further away
harmony a struggle to find
as grim-faced men seek the one who
shattered our peace
reminding us the smallness of a selfish evil
can tarnish the most precious of gold

warm sweat trickles down our backs as we sit
rapt
strong young women and men who lived
their whole lives for these two weeks
of time
walk slowly, proudly, into the arena
where they were tested
and proved their mettle
we too were tested, we too were proved
and we will leave this place saying

we had a blast in Atlanta



(c) 1996 susanna cornett

Dunblane

"May God take better care of you than this world ever did"
the words burn in our hearts as
sweet innocence dissolves
into flowing blood and ceaseless anguish
and we wonder
why

A grandfather hugs his granddaughter
"Goodbye, Joanna"
she runs to her classroom
he does not know
the goodbye is forever

A teacher watches her charges
run and play, scream and laugh
suddenly a man appears at the door
stern, silent, deadly, spraying bullets
She dives to protect the children
she dies too

Tiny bodies, lifeless
a medieval carnage ripping
joy from the world for at least
one day, one week
how long?

Each day before, each day after
hard hands of fathers break their children's hearts
leaving bruises inside and out
bullets cleave sons from their weeping mothers
in places we have not been
a slow and wretched death
swells the belly of a sobbing hungry child
and we cry for the children of Dunblane

"Time and chance happenth to us all"
the Preacher said
oh how swift time
and how wicked chance
we seek goodness in an evil world
and come up empty-handed

We cannot bring back the children
we cannot stem the pain
we cannot stop the carnage
we cannot excise the evil
we can only say

"May God take better care of you than this world ever did"

(c) 1996 susanna cornett

(Written following the shooting of kindergarten children and their teacher at an elementary school in Dunblane, Scotland. The opening and closing lines were taken from a sign placed in the school's yard by a local resident.)