Somewhere at dusk
light goes out of a baby’s eyes
The mother holds her son
to her dry breast
dropping her head
moaning dry words of comfort
rocking
Somewhere else
a son is dragged in the street
and left on the caked mud
his face contorted
in a silent scream
his still shining eyes
reflect the stars
Partisans reclaim the rope
Lamentations pierce the calm
and sputters of hatred echo
between quiet houses
suddenly lit
but hush toward dawn
when the sun ignites the sky
Wrapped in morning whispers
couples are moored to their hope
but when they separate
to begin their day
he’s recruited for the cause
that ancient failure of vengeance
THE WOUND THAT HEALS 
This was a very difficult poem to bring to life, was it not? You have captured the depth of horror and despair! I felt the angst.
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Thank you, and yes it’s a difficult topic to consider and treat with respect. Especially on International Holocaust Remembrance Day. The cycle of vengeance in the Mideast and elsewhere between Jews and non-Jews, and within the factions of Islam, seems an eternal tragedy.
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Mary Jo, I’m always amazed with your beautiful Haiku but now that I read your poems I am absolutely overwhelmed.
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Oh thank you, sweet Filipa. I really appreciate your taking time to read them. 🙂
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It’s a pleasure! 🍀☀️
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