At a protest
In the shadows of the tall towers,
by the federal courthouse, near watchful
Police Plaza in lower Manhattan,
hundreds gather in a paved-over park.
People mill about alone or in groups,
listen to the speeches, talk to each other,
or just stand there taking in the crowd.
Others hoist poster board signs.
Traffic goes past. Someone pounds a drum.
I lose myself in the standing crowd.
When the chanting starts we all join in,
not with our small individual voices
but touching into something larger
that belongs to us too, a fierce voice
meant for everyone to hear.
This is what democracy looks like.
The shadows lengthen over Foley Square.
The chanting ends, the crowd thins out.
The courthouse and police headquarters
remain. History is here. It moves through
the massive structures and through us.
Because power would silence us
if it could, we must speak
the words that matter when it counts.
Matthew Gartner
Associate Professor, English
Kingsborough Community College
Published: September 12, 2025
