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I started to write
Because it was twelve thousand
Now it’s more than twenty
There would be little left
Of my small town
Which is considering
The numbers only
Imagine people
I don’t want to
Imagine myself there
Would be easier
Because I would be doing something
And it would be awful
And my life would break
Like the earth
Beneath the nations
That might come back
Or we will fill it
Not with the dead
But with material
For building and for living
Apologies from government are fine
Maybe we could stop the war
Among the factions
And the other wars
In the region
To reassemble
Reknit the people
Not as Babel
Fallen
But as the New Jerusalem
A promise
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Photo by Jazmin Quaynor on Unsplash
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