A Reflection Christian Keefe November 2001 Terror, Disaster, Cinema and Reality - A Symposium Issue 17 the winds of change begin to move hurts of which, they’ve come before telling silent sides to mend their ways upset by random effects and sways signs of peace have no place tonight I slap you hard from the other side the hand is guided by money unseen the weary talk declines with flight pain arose from pain anew they didn’t expect the world to see toys that shine, no need for teams a signature is not a handshake, it seems i feel their loss, their darkened hue now let us count the loss too, of the red, white and blue