i pick and prod
unclog the dogfood
my son
filled the vacuum hose with
trying to clean the spill in the trunk
an IED shatters
the hopes and dreams
of a mother
for her son
it feels unnerving to just go on living
i vacuum up the raisin bran
my toddler
dumped on the carpet
a young soldier fires his weapon
an iraqi toddler
is killed by mistake
it feels unfair to just go on living
i fill the sink with
hot soapy water
using all I need
to wash and rinse the dishes
a woman in Bagdad
runs her precious generator
all day
pumping water
for her neighbors
i feel connected as I just go on living
i pour out my heart
on a journal online
wives and daughters
mothers like me
do the same
INSIDE IRAQ!
2 comments:
loved the poem, Heather. i'm fond of the gift of words too and their ability to express our anguish and grief (and whatever else!). words can give meaning (and hope) to all this craziness we live in.
keep it up!
your cousin Scott.
Thank you for letting me know you liked it. That means so much to me! You'll have to let me know where I can find your words...
Post a Comment