My literary musings and creations
O, let America be America again –
The land that never has been yet –
And yet must be— Langston Hughes
Children are foolish
to be born of parents
with no parenting skills
or the temerity
to be sick or malnourished
or to have nothing
and come to a land of plenty
or commit the crime
of darker skin, different tongue
as a nation proclaiming God
and rejecting His will
can we provide
for the least of these?
As morning brightness
sparkles on water far below,
a tiny silver bird turns toward me,
grows into a screaming vulture
and shakes the tower
beneath my feet.
Orange fingers reach through
cracks and holes,
seeking me,
hot breath against my back,
urging me along.
A young woman stands,
head pressed against the outside wall.
dread and pleading in her eyes.
She comes to me,
her fingers searching for mine.
I open them to her.
Seared by the inferno,
we spend a silent moment memorizing each other,
as dark tendrils search between us.
She swipes a fist at smudged tear trails.
Together,
we step to the window ledge.
Sharing one last glance,
our hands grip tightly.
We escape into cool, blue air.
Hal C Clark's Blog 