My son

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My son, my son!
I beg the world
weep for one small life,
not insignificant
amongst so many
lost now in a maelstrom
to terrible to comprehend.
As you recoil in horror
see this mother, bereft
with aching breasts,
where once he filled
my heart with joy.

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6 Comments
GuiltyPleasureGuiltyPleasurealmost 13 years ago
Heartbreaking

Strangely it conjures up so many diverse nightmares. Nicely done Annie.

Tess + 5

bogusagainbogusagainalmost 13 years ago
***

I think the poems starts very strongly as a plea from a mother. I think the poem would have been better if you kept on this tak but you then start to describe such as.....

lost now in a maelstrom

to terrible to comprehend

But if you kept speaking in the role of the mother as you did in the beginning and ended with this...

I recoil in horror

I am a mother, bereft

with aching breasts,

he once filled

my heart with joy.

Just an idea.

greenmountaineergreenmountaineeralmost 13 years ago

I too had a vivd recollection of the recent tsunami in Japan, but I also think the poem speaks just as well as the suffering in war at the most fundamental level. Nicely done.

SeattleRainSeattleRainalmost 13 years ago
~

I got an image of Japan, universal, this horror. My nightmare is to hear my son calling for me, trapped in rubble. Recurring. Can't imagine anything more terrible. Nice work capturing this.

twelveoonetwelveoonealmost 13 years ago
*

I like

see this mother, bereft

with aching breasts,

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