“Untitled [When have you ever heard a silent crowd?]” by Monika Cooper
When have you ever heard a silent crowd?
Without a word, they watched their schoolhouse burn
But one man must have turned his wide-brimmed hat
Over and over slowly in his hands.
They go home silent. I remember when
I wanted to be Amish, like in books,
Or Mennonite, like one I saw, my age,
Pushing a stroller, in a pioneer dress.
The future drove a car I didn’t trust.
I knew instinctively that it meant harm.
It meant me harm. With all the force of fear,
I fought to make time stop. But since I’ve learned
I can’t do that, I modify my prayer.
Time, not too fast. The pace of horse
And buggy was just right, the pace of feet.
When needed, flames, deliberate, complete.
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Monika Cooper Artist Statement:
Monika Cooper has been published several times in Grub Street Grackle and was a founding
member of the Bonehouse poetry group. She is a PhD candidate in Literature at the University
of Dallas.
