just before she dies
after three days at the hands
of u.s. trained torturers acting
for u.s. backed dictators
in the utter darkness of
one of Pinochet’s prisons
and the child inside of her
dies too…
perhaps there is a moment
where she is still alive and
the pain has stopped
long enough for her
to draw one breath
and she will realise
that she is not alone
nor forgotten,
,of course, that happened long ago
in not your country
to someone not you
and you were not there
so you may remain calm
and unaffected and believe
that this is just a poem
and not a holding of hands.
Paul Squires, Australia
(I was shocked to hear that Paul died on 28 July after an accidental fall. He was 46. In memory of a talented poet and entertaining blogger I'm reposting this poem of his which I first published here on 18 October 2007. )
9 comments:
A superlative poem, it's good to see it here.
Very moving poem Paul. Well done.
a touching of hands
a mixture of sweat
and tears
love
mandy
sad...ly...brilliant!
Poetman
a difficult topic that is beautifully handled...very nice!
I was shocked to hear that Paul died on the 28 July after an accidental fall. He was 46. In memory of a talented poet and entertaining blogger I'm reposting this poem of his which I first published here on 18 October 2007.
great story poem
This is a very sad ending... This beautiful poem is a bittersweet presence here and yet what a wonderful testimony to a passionate heart.
Fate is often too mean to understand.
Chris Crittenden
God Rest His Beautiful Soul...
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