Contemplations of a Disturbed Soul

XIII

I see you.

Your little feet making impressions on the dusty floor,

Your tiny hands bracing your fall.

Your hair covered with golden dust,

Your laugh obscured by your big eyes-

Those wide, young eyes taking the world in.

I watch as you reach out for me,

Giggling, and your tiny fingers quiver 

With excitement. And you start running

Round and round in circles, begging me to chase you.

Breathless, you wipe your dusty hands on your skirt,

And look up to me, questioning, waiting.

I look around at the bare walls that used to confine us

I see the ceiling-less gray sky. 

See the broken houses, crumbled walls, faded memories,

See the endless splatter of blood on the porch.

I hear your inquiring voice but look up-

To see a metal bird open its belly and drop 

Another bomb.

Falling ever so slowly at us.

I see your face and try to say a million things at once.

But I can't.

So I turn away from your sweet, young face;

And I turn away from the torn boundaries of a lost home.

Only to hear

Silence.