The Poetry of Mary K O'Melveny

CEASE FIRE

 


 

 

We are not always happy at the news.

Though one might think we would rejoice.

There is always that uptick in dying

before the eerie silence settles in

like dust filtered on late day’s twilight.

Peace tiptoes on death’s long shadows.

 

Of course the ones who agree are never

those who gather up body parts like leaves.

These are the questions no one asked us:

Are we tired of our eardrums breaking apart?

How long must our children sit dazed and

bleeding, for photographic portraiture?

How will we turn growing piles of bricks and

rubble back to something called a neighborhood?

Did we cry as we left our once green gardens

in search of rubber rafts on open seas?

 

If there are good answers to these questions,

perhaps peacekeepers are jotting them down

in their computers or cease fire notebooks.

Here is my question for them: Will one of you 

be here to walk out with me to the marketplace

just before it starts? In that often forgotten 

moment when we place our lives at risk

for a taste of cardamom-spiced coffee. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"CEASE FIRE" WAS AWARDED FIRST PRIZE

 

IN THE 2017 RAYNES POETRY COMPETITION

  

 

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