The Day the Prophet Wept


Je suis Charlie chanted the multitudes
who packed Paris’ streets, placards and pencils
held as high as the torches which lit those streets 
in an earlier era.  Je suis Charlie, their refrain,
honored freedom of expression and those
assassinated for their words, their cartoons.

Across the city whose lights this night
sparkled like tears, crowds gathered
to honor the women murdered 
while shopping for their sabbath meal,
women singled out
because they were Jews.

One man among the millions
who marched across the television screen
held a sign which read:
Je suis juif
Je suis policier
Je suis Charlie
He might have been Mohammed.