Where the young girls sat in the sunshine
along the river and the young men
strutted and swore, thunder was heard.

Night came suddenly, sun sliced
to darkness. A curtain dropped
before the eyes of a thousand people,
millions more.

Memory was blind to the iron
and rust of history. No one had thought
the cities would swirl up again in flame,
dust and ashes eager for the sky.

The tulips were profligate that spring,
blood-red cups brimming, the sun
pouring into them like gold.

For Lent that year, they gave up fear.