Here and there a see-see partridge glides

through the air with its sandy-brown wings

pointed to the rubbles of bricks and cement blocks,

As it cocks its black striped and white cheeked face through the thick film of suffocating dust.

Here and there a mother’s bosom caresses her child  

Offering protection against the ear-piercing, spirited shrieks

Who threaten to destroy what is left of their soul

Here and there they are distressed by bombs.

That here, there is an unrest

Here and there a finger pokes through pieces of cement stacked together

The rest of the of the body unknown, unimportant, unmoved

A young ghost wails for his parents

Unable to wipe the tears that journey from his tear ducts to the small crevasses of his face

Salty

As the ominous ocean .

Here and there, there is an artist

Who fails to capture the truth of war

That eats at his heart as he lays complacent and tranquil

Who will allow the brush to speak its integrity?

Here we breathe freedom and eat patriotism

Brag of unity and equality, but here and there,

Tan, sage, and foliage are sent to pillage.

Through colored television desolate faces are projected, that we can not turn away from

Because there, voices are smothered and silenced into ignored screams.

We remain faultless

Sinister spirits that camouflage itself in the name of freedom

That people there yearn for

That here and there bombs are still dropped, hope is forgotten

Here and there