Haiti

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Determined dawn breaks through the window
And inhales bottle glass dreams of my sweet slumber.
Dandelions float like prayers in stray shafts of sunlight
While the ballad of a nightingale cleanses morning air.
Bee pulse and weave their relentless nectar thoughts
Amongst the emerging spectrum of perfection.

Now, by a dormant tree, I peer hesitantly inside the shattered window
At the insufferable disarray of the screaming aftermath.
The sacrilegious quake thrashed, mauled, struck this sanctuary,
Diminishing it to a lowly gathering of a dusty, muted haze.
Recollections of emerald kisses are fractured by debris
And ashes of sepia-toned youth scatter the floor in agony.
Weeping remnants of houses linger in the idleness of a rubble graveyard,
Tenaciously preaching pleas for us to count our graces.





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