The Day That Got Away

A festival:

a day of joy,
of laughter and song,
and girls strewing flowers
before an endless procession
of light and laughter
mixing with gentle breezes
to fill the air with community.

Suddenly,
the noonday sun clouded over,
and the day started to get away;
tensions flared,
fights broke out,
blame was laid,
a friend accused falsely.

The procession,
now hostile,
led by police,
marched the prisoner
from one place to another;
tried by officials,
tried by the public,
the prisoner soon convicted
by opinion,
then summarily executed
for the public good. 

Can an idea
(of compassionate community)
really be so wrong?

Gentle breezes
continue to fill the air
of our public square,
empty now and quiet;
that day of joy
has now become
a day of mourning.

Even so,
flowers continue to bloom
under the watchful eye
of a blameless sun.

© 2013 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen