Happening

I protested the
war
today. We held a demonstration
at the train station
at eight o'clock in the morning.
I could have been sleeping,
but dutifully I arose
and stepped into the cold.
We were expecting about
twenty participants,
but seven turned up.
I guess the others were sleeping.
It didn't matter, though.
We had our hot pink sign:
2000 too many.
We had our list of names -
reading them aloud was like
prayer,
or poetry,
or something so sacred that it is without
name.
No one walked by,
so no one heard us,
but the aggressive pink poster
caught the eyes of drivers, who responded with either
a glare of disapproval
or a nod of agreement.
I was shaking all over
because of the cold
and maybe a little because of fear.
I am afraid of what we all have become.
I am afraid to live in a place
where the ratio of glares to nods
is ten to one.
I am afraid of ignorance, and I fear
that if I stay, and keep reading,
I will lose my voice.