I don't know
Darfur
There is a body in Africa--
at least,
What is left of a body---
Partially self-interred
in the sand.
Who was this man-woman-child,
Hiding behind a scrub
of brush,
Wearing already
the signs of defeat?
There is a black halo of hair
Attached to the
empty skull.
I wonder if there is still a face
Kissing the ground beneath it.
For me,
It is strange to see:
Arm bones
Picked white and clean,
But the hand,
Skin covered,
As though ready to twitch---
the signal for me to grasp its fingers
and help this body up.
(http://www.ushmm.org/conscience/alert/darfur/steidle/)
There is a body in Africa--
at least,
What is left of a body---
Partially self-interred
in the sand.
Who was this man-woman-child,
Hiding behind a scrub
of brush,
Wearing already
the signs of defeat?
There is a black halo of hair
Attached to the
empty skull.
I wonder if there is still a face
Kissing the ground beneath it.
For me,
It is strange to see:
Arm bones
Picked white and clean,
But the hand,
Skin covered,
As though ready to twitch---
the signal for me to grasp its fingers
and help this body up.
(http://www.ushmm.org/conscience/alert/darfur/steidle/)