The walls bear witness:
Stained plaster, agonized crimson handprints
Carry the memory of extinguished life.

The books bear witness.
They were there, on the shelves in the library, helpless above the blood:
Filled with wisdom and important thoughts
Intended to give life, but unable to prevent death.

The chapel bears witness:
A sanctuary violated, penetrated by immense evil -
Five hundred who sought safety gone, gone,
Leaving only poured blood and fragments of bone.

The mural bears witness
Christ above the altar, loving, outstretched hands:
The mural saw it all, everything, everything.
"Where were you?" the mural asks. "Where were you?"

The spire bears witness
Fulfilling the mission great evil could not see:
Pointing upward to the sky -
Sunshine, freedom, peace.

Jackson H. Day
Attleboro, MA
September 10, 2000