.children. by Sonja Benskin Mesher

stand back to spite the craving, look on as from afar.   people, some write hymns & mantra others watch tv, not the news.               oh no not the news, the truth is too depressing, a bit near the mark.

 

 

i guess yours sleep in bed, loved and cherished.                                              others love and cherish , yet their families sleep in mud,                                                                                                   on streets.

 

the words came suddenly. an odd day, no gentle people to woo thee, day of stress,      and horror, you watch the news.                                                         a day of reality, the reckoning that nowhere is safe.

 

come in dreams, the shape of your face remaining. there is a line now,        dreams and aspirations.   words and degradations.                                                                                   lines deepen, water etched.

 

 

 

the rain falls round our houses.

 

 

 

how small.

how white

the child,

skin rinsed

with tears.

salt in the wind.