Embers

The sun’s path is low over the horizon
Summer’s memory is as faded as light at the end of day
Sky’s blue has gone to blue-gray
A single cumulus cloud still shift changes with imagination
And what sun’s light there is belongs to all
“Another suicide bomber blew-up a five foot hole in front ...”
The news reader’s hair is perfect, it doesn’t move
She’s describing the bomb’s crater
Human suffering is too much to tell
“In other news, he walked into the mall and began shooting...”
He stares straight into the camera, smiling
He tells about the number of shots
But nothing concerning the number shot
“The ice storm caused electricity outages all along...”
The map showed counties but not faces of the cold
Cries, wailing, screams, were louder than the sounds of flames
Black smoke from bodies and buildings raced to cover the summer
Sky
Villages, stone buildings, towns, cities,
Elderly, youngsters, men, women, children, heaped or single
Litter the ground
Through the ages
Stones, clubs, knives, spears, arrows, lances, swords, bullets, bombs
Hand-to-hand, bombing runs, or long-range missiles
The sky is dark with fear
I was there, in a village, when the dream was shot with an arrow,
Saw it stabbed and another poisoned in a town,
Watched it cut with a sword on a field,
I was there at the shots in Memphis,
And in California
It was critically wounded and hid
But it has not died
Laying dormant, waiting to arise like a phoenix
Sunlight belongs to all of us
Bathing faces in its warm glow
When the clouds part