In the suburbs,
in the streets,
on the tables
built for food,
in the beds of
blood and tears
lies the signature
of death.

In the shops
full of holes,
on the empty shelves,
in the places
where they met
to laugh and console,
there lies the
signature of death.

Where then shall they go?
What is their way?
Where is there a space,
a home,
without the signature
of death.

 

21/8/2023