Four Days After the Shooting


I dropped off my son at preschool yesterday,

drove by a school playground, the children

lining up in messy rows.  I started to cry,

again.  Wiped my tears and went on to shop

for holiday gifts, spending more, perhaps,

on our children than I’d planned.


They are small for such a short time.


I managed to forget for most of the day,

surrounded by toy shopping carts,

stuffed animals, bright and cheerful colors.

I bought Legos, a broom, a knitting kit,

ages four and up.  I will lie on the floor

after Christmas Day, building a pink house

with my daughter.  I will try to teach her

how to knit.  I will watch my son sweep

with his child-size broom, and I can

already see the pleasure in his face.


I will forget the children of Sandy Hook

in my children’s present joy and

future plans.  When I remember, I will

demand more hugs and kisses, clutch

them tightly to my chest, struck

by grief and guilt.


I want to remember.

I want to forget.




M.A. Mohanraj