A child asks his
mother for food,
and she has to
turn away, for there
is none, nothing to
take away the cry,
to remove the
anguish from
the child’s face,
none to bring relief,
for the uncertainty
of this place means
that death gazes in
at the child with awful
glee from every corner
and from the blue sky above.

A child asks his mother
for food and all she
can give is a hug in
this rubble zone of fear,
this cauldron of dust,
this place of tenuous survival,
where thousands upon thousands
share this simple fate,
where childen ask
their mothers for food
and there is no reply.

 

21/10/2023