My marrow mourns the broken bones
I see in harrowed eyes from those who’ve
fled the barrel bombs, the bloodshed and
the tear of air from retribution and revenge.
At night I hear the scream from rapes,
the wail of widows and from the soil
the fumes of fratricide and
shell shocked children rise.
But you grow numb with time,
you lock your door
you shut your eyes and hope
for someone else to save our sparrow souls.
My marrow mourns…
Margaret gives us children’s picture for the prompt today at toads. I loved the the picture of bones. I am on a quest to finish with 30 poems in April and this number 24.