out of thick piles of rubbles
out of mountains of broken bricks
out of anonymous heaps of bones
out of red seas that flow
out of an explosion
a child struggles out
of the frozen back of a mother
once warm with life
but the rescuers say: a
mystic bird sketched maps
with droppings on his head
moments before the blast
so they pick sticks, and club
this handiwork of god, this miracle
till he joins his mother and the rest
who came haggling for cheap bread
to fill empty pouches beneath their breasts
not knowing the earth would do the eating
No comments:
Post a Comment