12 dead in Virginia Beach.
Been hearing in my head the song Neil Young wrote about the Kent State shooting on May 4, 1970… 4 dead in Ohio, though there’s no connection. Well, that’s not exactly true. Guns are guns, no matter who’s toting them legally or otherwise.
The first gun I ever saw was my father’s hunting rifle he kept in the garage. He belonged to the Newtown Fish and Hunt Club where he’d go do manly things like drink beer and shoot helpless animals no bigger than his work boot.
I had just turned 4 when I came upon dead baby rabbits still warm, laid out on our back porch. Balloons from my birthday party I remember, were still stuck to the ceiling.
When I went to play with them, my mother grabbed me by my ponytail.
“Don’t touch them. They’re dead,” she said.
“You mean like Uncle Danny?”
Took a while for my little mind to digest this since I used to play with my uncle too, so I then asked, does that mean there would be no Easter Bunny anymore.
I remember adding them to my prayers.
The 12 people in Virginia Beach who did nothing but go to work, were like those bunnies who did nothing but cross a field at the wrong time.
I’ll pray for them like that little girl who prayed for those bunnies.
Will it ever stop?
Tin soldiers and Nixon’s comin’
We’re finally on our own
This summer I hear the drummin’
Four dead in Ohio…