image: An Iraqi policeman passes in front of Iraqi women mourning outside the general morgue in Baghdad. The bodies of 46 Iraqis killed execution-style were discovered in different parts of Iraq, the bulk from Shiite Muslim neighborhoods in and around Sadr City in northern Baghdad. (AFP/SABAH ARAR)
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images and words below the fold
Silence
by Thomas Hood
There is a silence where hath been no sound,
There is a silence where no sound may be,
In the cold grave–under the deep, deep, sea,
Or in wide desert where no life is found,
Which hath been mute, and still must sleep profound;
No voice is hushed–no life treads silently,
But clouds and cloudy shadows wander free,
That never spoke, over the idle ground:
But in green ruins, in the desolate walls
Of antique palaces, where Man hath been,
Though the dun fox, or wild hyena, calls,
And owls, that flit continually between,
Shriek to the echo, and the low winds moan,
There the true Silence is, self-conscious and alone.
