That Long Arc

Have you ever had to stand up 

or kneel for what you believed in, or

weigh in a single instant the consequence

of staring down the barrel of a gun

Have you ever been the one

to knock on a door, bringing 

a message regretting to inform 

And have you ever been the one

who opened to the sudden clamor

at night or in the middle of the day

already knowing from glimpsing through

a window the pair of sombre

dark-clothed messengers

Could any of such moments

be recompensed

erased or forgotten in

the detritus of time

Could time go any slower

or any faster than

the way it does