The Loudest Sound of All

On the Disappeared of Operation Condor (1975-1983). The United States backed this bloody conspiracy in the Southern Cone of South America to replace left-wing governments (whom they suspected were Communist or Marxist) with right-wing dictatorships. It was a formal, organized persecution of anyone who dissented its purposes. According to explore.com, up to 30,000 people disappeared in Argentina alone. The United States has yet to apologize for its part in this brutal time in Latin American history.

The saddest sound is that of
the voiceless, those who have
disappeared, like the birds
forever gone, their song
lost in the once avian ether,
no more, no more.
The disappeared,
vanished as a skiff in
a storm,
with no cry heard over
the deep barking waves.
Quiet as a leaf is stolen away
from its mother oak by
a thieving wind.
Silenced, as a song sparrow
before the ripping rains
and thunderous growls.
Lost, lost,
the disappeared.
We forget
across the years.
Condor.
Picking clean the streets of
its undesirable refuse,
until it is fast gone,
before anyone knows,
before the red rind of
the sun sinks behind the Andes.
With blood-stained hands their northern neighbors
while away the time, sullied now, in transient dreams
of liberty and pursuits of happiness.
What do we hear?
The humming factories, singing corporations,
debating politicians and ranting voters.

They hear the silence of the voiceless,
which is the loudest sound of all,
roaring out of the mouths of the disappeared.

Melissa A. Chappell is a writer from South Carolina who is much inspired by nature, spirituality, and social justice issues which particularly speak to her. She has published in The Orchards Poetry Review, Autumn Sky Daily, Blaze Vox, among others. Her latest book is Remnant Day (Transcendent Zero Press, 2023). She hopes one day to travel to Spain in the spring. Read other articles by Melissa A..