Childhood’s Burst
The night’s hot stillness
Is shattered by a
staccato burst
of machine gun fire
Bright blasts of incandescence
light darkened streets
where deathly shadows tread
There follows the dull thud
of a hand grenade
exploding in a back garden
Children stir in their beds
softly murmuring
turning under the sheets to sleep again
War and pain and suffering
so endemic to their ancient land
that they barely register
And though the children
may survive another night
the trauma they suffer will be everlasting
Wounding not the body
but the spirit and soul
For which we all should mourn
For no child
should have to endure such horror
or bear such scars
[untitled haiku #1]
beauty will emerge
as from the plain chrysalis
butterflies burst forth
[untitled haiku #2]
spring flowers burst up
after winter’s cold embrace
coloring grey dawn
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