images: Eight photos depicting results of an attack on July 13, 2005 in which many Iraqi civilians, mostly children, were gathered around a U.S. Humvee when an explosives-laden vehicle drove up and exploded, a U.S. military spokesman said.

Cross-posted at DailyKos, Booman Tribune, and European Tribune.

Approximately 120kb total images and poem below the fold

An injured Iraqi boy stands at the scene of a suicide car bomb attack in Baghdad, Iraq Wednesday, July 13, 2005. A suicide car bomber sped to American soldiers as they distributed candy to children and detonated his vehicle Wednesday, killing up to 27 other people, U.S. and Iraqi officials said. One U.S. soldier and about a dozen children were among the dead. (AP Photo/Hadi Mizban)
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Members of a family cry after a suicide car bomb exploded near their home in Baghdad July 13, 2005. At least 25 people were killed and 25 wounded when a suicide car bomber attacked a U.S. military patrol in Baghdad, police said. Many Iraqi civilians, mostly children, were gathered around a U.S. Humvee when an explosives-laden vehicle drove up and exploded, a U.S. military spokesman said. (Mohammed Ameen/Reuters)
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An Iraqi woman grieves as she looks at her neighbors damaged house at the scene of a suicide car bomb attack Wednesday, July 13, 2005. A suicide car bomber sped to American soldiers as they distributed candy to children and detonated his vehicle Wednesday, killing up to 27 other people, U.S. and Iraqi officials said. One U.S. soldier and about a dozen children were among the dead. (AP Photo/Hadi Mizban)
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All injured by flying glass, Falah Jabbar, his unidentified wife, and their 4-day-old daughter Miriam, arrive at a Baghdad, Iraq hospital after a suicide car bomb attack Wednesday, July 13, 2005. A suicide car bomber sped to American soldiers as they distributed candy to children and detonated his vehicle Wednesday, killing up to 27 other people, U.S. and Iraqi officials said. One U.S. soldier and about a dozen children were among the dead. (AP Photo/Khalid Mohammed)
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An Iraqi puts his dead brother in a wooden coffin outside the morgue of a local hospital in Baghdad, 13 July 2005. Twenty-four Iraqi children were killed by a suicide car bomber targeting American soldiers handing out sweets after entering their Baghdad neighborhood precisely to warn of a possible attack.(AFP/Ali Al-Saadi)
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An Iraqi carries his dead nephew outside the morgue of a local hospital in Baghdad. Twenty-four Iraqi children were killed by a suicide car bomber targeting American soldiers handing out sweets after entering their Baghdad neighborhood precisely to warn of a possible attack.(AFP/Ali Al-Saadi)
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The family a child, who relatives would only identify as a 9-year-old boy named Ahmed, wail over his coffin during his funeral at their home near the scene of suicide car bomb attack which killed him in Baghdad, Iraq Wednesday, July 13, 2005. A suicide car bomber sped to American soldiers as they distributed candy to children and detonated his vehicle Wednesday, killing up to 27 other people, U.S. and Iraqi officials said. One U.S. soldier and about a dozen children were among the dead. (AP Photo/Hadi Mizban)
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Mourners grieve at the funeral for a victim of a suicide car bomb attack in Baghdad July 13, 2005. A suicide car bomber exploded his vehicle near U.S. troops handing out sweets in Baghdad on Wednesday, killing at least 25 people and wounding at least 25 more, many of them children, police sources said. REUTERS/Namir Noor-Eldeen

An Absolutely Ordinary Rainbow
by Les Murray

The word goes round Repins, the murmur goes round Lorenzinis,
At Tattersalls, men look up from sheets of numbers,
The Stock Exchange scribblers forget the chalk in their hands
And men with bread in their pockets leave the Greek Club:
There’s a fellow crying in Martin Place. They can’t stop him.

The traffic in George Street is banked up for half a mile
And drained of motion. The crowds are edgy with talk
And more crowds come hurrying. Many run into the back streets
Which minutes ago were busy main streets, pointing:
There’s a fellow weeping down there. No one can stop him.

The man we surround, the man no one approaches
Simply weeps, and does not cover it, weeps
Not like a child, not like the wind, like a man
And does not declaim it, not beat his breast, not even
Sob very loudly — yet the dignity of his weeping

Holds us back from his space, the hollow he makes about him
In the midday light, in his pentagram of sorrow,
And uniforms back in the crowd who tried to seize him
Stare out at him, and feel, with amazement, their minds
Longing for tears as children for a rainbow.

Some will say, in the years to come, a halo
Or force stood around him. There was no such thing.
Some will say they were shocked and would have stopped him
But they will not have been there. The fiercest manhood,
The toughest reserve, the slickest wit amongst us

Trembles with silence, and burns with unexpected
Judgements of peace. Some in the concourse scream
Who thought themselves happy. Only the smallest children
And such as look out of Paradise come near him
And sit at his feet, with dogs and dusty pigeons.

Ridiculous, says a man near me, and stops
His mouth with his hands, as if it uttered vomit —
And I see a woman, shining, stretch out her hand
And shake as she receives the gift of weeping;
As many as follow her also receive it.

And many weep for sheer acceptance, and more
Refuse to weep for fear of all acceptance,
But the weeping man, like the earth, requires nothing,
The man who weeps ignores us, and cries out
Of his writhen face and ordinary body

Not words, but grief, not messages, but sorrow
Hard as the earth, sheer, present as the sea —
And when he stops, he simply walks between us
Mopping his face with the dignity of one
Man who has wept, and now has finished weeping.

Evading believers, he hurries off down Pitt Street.

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