A poem of the Iraq War
Dedicated to George W Bush
Slicing through clear spring skies
the belly of the craft dilates
the crowning missile tip
seeks out the cradle of civilisation
sheltered between its parent riverbeds
A young woman down in the green valley
half smiling, hand on belly
turns to tell her husband --
their new life!
she felt it,
dancing the imaginary path
from dawn to end of time
she reaches for his hand to share,
as luck would have it,
the bloody moment of extinction.
Unknown