Thursday, April 03, 2003

Once they were the names of flowers
I could not recall
a violet leafed crawler up a metal fencepost
an orange petal edible
or a single cupped leaf stem

Once there were the names of people
I could not recall
that man with seven children who sold bread every morning
the woman whose onyx pearl eyes peered from her hajib
or the young boy learning to bend low in prayer

Once their names were known to many
but few wish to recall the time before now
that man's brother fights for boxes of food and water
the woman's daughter lays in a hospital bed
there is no one to weep for the young boy

I am looking for a place
to etch their names
on the petals of nameless flowers
like those on polished black stone
to rain delicately like cherry blossoms
carpeting my path.
Coalition Troop Casualties, POWs, MIAs

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