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All the times our laughter rang in summer,
All the times the rivers sang our tune—
Was there already sadness in the sunlight?
Some stormy story waiting to be told?
Where O where has the innocence gone?
Where O where has it gone?
Rains rolling down wash away my memory;
Where O where has it gone?
When I think of all the joys, the wonders we remember
All the treasures we believed we’d never ever lose.
Too many days gone by without their meaning,
Too many darkened hours without their peace.
Where O where has the innocence gone?
Where O where has it gone?
Vows we once swore, now it’s just this letting go,
Where O where has it gone?
Recitation VI
In the days and weeks a er Matthew’s death, many people came to the fence
to pay homage and pray and grieve.
The Fence (one week later)
I have seen people come out here with a pocketknife and take a piece of the
fence, like a relic, like an icon.
—Rev. Stephen M. Johnson, Unitarian minister
I keep still
I stand rm
I hold my ground
while they lay down
owers and photos
prayers and poems
crystals and candles
sticks and stones
they come in herds
they stand and stare
they sit and sigh
they crouch and cry
some of them touch me
in unexpected ways
without asking permission
and then move on
but I don’t mind
being a shrine
is better than being
the scene of the crime
Recitation VII
Matthew’s father made his statement to the court on November ,
.
Stars
By the end of the beating, his body was just trying to survive. You le him
out there by himself, but he wasn’t alone. ere were his lifelong friends
with him—friends that he had grown up with. You’re probably wondering
who these friends were. First, he had the beautiful night sky with the same
stars and moon that we used to look at through a telescope. en, he had
the daylight and the sun to shine on him one more time—one more cool,
wonderful autumn day in Wyoming. His last day alive in Wyoming. His last
day alive in the state that he always proudly called home. And through it all
he was breathing in for the last time the smell of Wyoming sagebrush and the
scent of pine trees from the snowy range. He heard the wind—the ever-present
Wyoming wind—for the last time. He had one more friend with him. One he
grew to know through his time in Sunday school and as an acolyte at St. Mark’s
in Casper as well as through his visits to St. Matthew’s in Laramie.
I feel better knowing he wasn’t alone.
Stars
across
scattered
the
sky
in
blinking
dismay
unable
being
to help
light
years
away
Recitation VIII
Matthew was le tied to the fence for almost hours.
In Need of Breath
Matt:
My heart
Is an unset jewel
Upon the tender night
Yearning for its dear old friend
e Moon.
When the Nameless One debuts again
Ten thousand facets of my being unfurl wings
And reveal such a radiance inside
I enter a realm divine—
I too begin to sweetly cast light,
Like a lamp,
I cast light
rough the streets of this
World.
My heart is an unset jewel
Upon existence
Waiting for the Friend’s touch.
Tonight
Tonight
My heart is an unset ruby
O ered bowed and weeping to the Sky.
I am dying in these cold hours
For the resplendent glance of God.
My heart
Is an unset jewel
Upon the tender night
My heart is an unset ruby
O ered bowed and weeping to the Sky.
Recitation IX
Sheri ’s Deputy Reggie Fluty, the rst to report to the scene, told Judy
Shepard that as she ran to the fence she saw a large doe lying near Matt—as
if the deer had been keeping him company all through the night.
Deer Song
Deer:
A mist is over the mountain,
e stars in their meadows upon the air,
Your people are waiting below them,
And you know there’s a gathering there.
All night I lay there beside you,
I cradled your pain in my care,
We move through creation together,
And we know there’s a welcoming there.
SEPTEMBER 10 – SEPTEMBER 16, 2018 | RAVINIA MAGAZINE
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