The red coals pouring into the infant’s mouth
No
The infant’s mouth in the raider who pours
Nothe mother gagged and forced to witness it
Then raped and shot the milk of her murder
No
The coals of revenge and the clans of clarity
The separatists the occupiers the old seeking wise silence
The infant’s father staring out from whetted blades
The widower waiting tables for the nation of his exile
No
The infant grown up see how tall the night marching
See the gangs ground into rebels to season distant headlines
Azaleas bursting from palace barricadesNo
Noonly the infant
The infant and its wail was there ever such a peace
Published online in The Poetry Center at Smith College.