i stepped to the side at the last protest march i was in, heart in my throat. i watched the thousands and thousands of people march by and i didn't cry.

people with huge posters bearing pictures of war dead, women in black, the wobbly contingent, ordinary folks, ragin grannies, code pink, international brigades --

then everything went silent and all we heard was click click click left right left right stamp. a group of guys, maybe twenty five of them, marching with taps on their shoes, left right left. they stopped, four lines of five or six guys. they turned, left right left and turn again. the classic marching square. left right left right, in place. no sound but the clicking of their taps.

off duty firemen, a couple POlicemen, a couple EMT-ambulance guys: forming the square, reforming their lines up again. they had rehearsed. they came to march against oppression. their footsteps were the only sound --