(for a city trying to sleep)

Hush now, Minneapolis,
the night is cold and deep.
The streets are filled with footsteps
when they ought to be asleep.

A man was lost this morning,
and questions fill the air;
voices asking softly
for truth that’s clear and fair.

The winter wind is blowing,
but people gather still,
holding candles in the darkness
on every frosted hill.

Officials speak in circles,
and stories twist and turn;
families ask for answers,
for facts they can discern.

Two hearings wait at sunrise,
the courts will have their say
to guard the needed evidence
and guide the coming day.

So hush now, Minneapolis,
rest your weary snow‑lit streets;
tomorrow brings more voices,
more questions, and repeats.

But may the night hold gently
all those who stand and weep,
and may the truth walk with you
until the city falls asleep.