Lightning bolts fall from the sky
Ripping apart her meager existence.
Small tents
Cling together for support.
Possibly their unity was too much of a target.
Only blood and bone
Remain when the lightening stops;
And the human will to live.
She doesn’t move
Her cheek pressed
Tightly to her mother’s chest
Willing the present away.
Like a fly on a corpse;
There is silence.
Memory of a heartbeat.
Dead arms enfold her.
Protective even then.
She is pulled from her cocoon.
Like birth
Amidst the wailing voices
She is carried
In a soldier’s arms.
To freedom.


Posted on September 27, 2014, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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