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 