Monday, May 28, 2007

Poem The Rubble of Qana

The Rubble of Qana

They told them to leave
No feast here. Home
Is home even for the displaced.
Numbers of families gathered
In a basement, thankful
To touch and see loved ones.
A belief that this blessing
Of recognition
Would keep them safe.

Of the new day
Darkest hour
A bunker buster bomb
Descended on this concrete
Structure; it was swift carnage.
Plumes of dust, rebar
Bent so awkwardly
A prison formed for those
Trying to recover remains. Inside
A silence; children, mothers,
Found dead as they slept.
No miracle, riddled
Bodies never cry- too porous.