My Lai

My Lai was silent that day
the birds didn't chatter
the cowbells didn't ring
the market, bereft of its cacophony
Muted seemed the rustling
of leaves of the old banyan tree.
As though she knew,
of her inevitable end.
And had decided to embrace it
the way a dying old lady does.
My Lai was silent that day
and the days that followed.



PS: My Lai is a village in Vietnam which was heavily damaged during the Vietnam war.