Yes, the war has started, the best we could do we didn’t stop it—though maybe we helped Chretien in Canada decide to stay with his position on not fighting without UN sanction. But going on from here isn’t easy—it’s the right thing to do, yes, but there’s an understandable amount of emotional whiplash in just taking in where we are now to be going on from.

History is easy, it’s now that is hard.
Now, that is happening, which might lead
anywhere, now, the unfolding seed.
Now, as our fires explode to rain more charred
ashes of paperbacks, memories, flesh
(that ought, but does not, rhyme with death) and bone,
now, as we stand together and alone,
all deeds that came before set in a mesh,
leading to this and on; we fear what’s unrevealed.
The future grows from this, from now, today,
from these events that can’t be wished away.
Now is the time we have, our only field.
But what to do? We don’t all feel the same
but all that dies tonight, dies in our name