Refuge
(listening to public radio)
A man is interviewed
Via translation
I lost my daughter in
The explosion
Here is a picture of her
There are two;
She was twin to the
Daughter I still have
Paper riffles, passing
The photograph back
And forth
Her mother is gone, too
He does not say his
Wife
I wonder if he says
“Mother” instead,
Because this is
The relationship that
Must matter now
The mother of his
Living daughter died,
And he must see to
That for her
Or is it that he cannot
Bring himself to say
Again, my wife
August 4, 2016 at 2:21 am
oh. this poignant piece moved me to tears, brother. 😦
August 5, 2016 at 4:23 am
I feel sorry for this man who has lost those so close to him and yet must carry on strongly for her daughter’s sake. I feel sorry for the daughter who must live without her mother and her twin. I feel sorry for those caught in between warring interests. I’m deeply grateful, sister, for your compassionate heart.
August 5, 2016 at 6:36 am
We are both sorry for them. For a lot of them whose death of a loved one just become part of the massive statistics of war’s deaths. *sigh*
your compassion is contagious brother.
August 4, 2016 at 2:38 am
You paint a sad picture of this man, trying to move on with his one daughter left. You put great emotion into this poem, particularly at the end, where the man perhaps, cannot bring himself to say “wife.” It’s a powerful line and heartbreaking.
August 5, 2016 at 4:25 am
Goodness, thank you for your response, Mandi. What I heard stayed close to the front of my mind all the time I was driving (a few hours’ worth of). In a small way, at least, I didn’t want his words or the crisis they’re both in to go away too easily.