Saturday, January 17, 2015

Poem

This week, a 5 year old boy I know will leave Shelter. I will never forget him.

Somewhere, beyond all that
spins, a young man is standing
motionless, not a ripple near

He can barely speak
about the altitude,
the caverns,
the Terror

The time he lifted a boy in shards
from a jagged rock, tearing teeth
from his torso, placing a palm
over the strange stare in his eyes

Mound by mound, they climbed
around the edges of the canyon
to the very top

Never again to cower
in the dark

1 comment:

( ) said...

I can't imagine the tragedy you witness in your work. Takes a woman with a soft and courageous heart.