Collective Son
What is this puzzle, for a mother?
A hand, a leg, which does not fit -
part of an infant, part of a soldier boy,
bodies splashed against both sides
of blood- speckled streets
Roadside, sidewalk pieces;
the literal collective son, brothers,
sisters - missing parts, fall like ashes,
pushed off to the side…the back side,
dark side, opposite side, sideways -
parts identified; forgotten when
the puzzle is complete.
There is no moral to this story,
no solution or formula for peace
just a white bird that can not sleep.
Deborah Russell, © 2006
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