MAY 24 1971

Sandwiched between days

of string games on fingers

elastic bands knotted together

heights to jump over

and hiding from the tragic seeker

there is you

big league dreamer

toss me the ball

I’ll catch and toss it back harder

always a child of eleven


a backward glance

from the threshold of dying

that is my urging

my reminder

that to be here

in this place

of fear

of poverty

of greed

of rage

of war

of abuse

is still better than the canopy of angry flames that swallowed you alive,

the rest of us numb, sifting through the poison ashes

for the human remains of our murdered innocence


Author: valo

I am a poet, writer and activist with a special interest in human rights for children and women as well as the elimination of poverty worldwide. If you read this today, feed someone locally for me will you? Drop off a non perishable food item at the food bank nearest you and consider yourself hugged. Thank you!

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