Friday, October 22, 2010
Sonnet for Señor Rubén Salazar
One projectile and four decades ago,
when the writer fought against death quiet
and slow, (for they say that the end is so:
a stillness of time and place, a not-yet
that occurs to the dying, a no, not
just yet.) And as the voice of refusal
rises again and again to make stop
death’s procedure, the will of the martyr
seizes its newfound purpose; what but death,
cowardly death, accepts vile orders
to squelch the people’s pen by state power?
So close we had come, as close as a breath,
to freedom's center. Above and beneath
we remember him, Señor Salazar.