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for Sarah Venart
the ocean tide rises in suffering
recedes in regret
a before and after
moment
the bell rings
you are home
a package arrives
at your door
unexpected
the sender unknown
you open anyway
a faraway war
the former lives
of faceless bodies shot
dead in a neighbourhood street
looking like yours
comes into vivid view
the message is received
no space is safe
from delivered bombs
some bullets
have no exit wound.
4 comments:
Love.
A poem for the times.
Loved your poem Amazon
Sadly
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