Airstrike-Poem II
Vital signs not promising,
bleeding, broken,
strips of rag a pathetic try
to stem the flow,
the nameless patients laid
on grubby sheets
in rows along the floor.
Hope seeps away
as senses fade, save speech,
as suffering victims weep,
weary nurses bark disconnected words
and searching mothers wail despair.
As the onslaught of world events escalates in horror, my poetry becomes darker. You may find more cheery interpretations at The Sunday Whirl
Vivinfrance's Blog 
This is so powerful and relevant–much better than mine, Bravo!
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Viv, this brings tears to my eyes. Your words cry with anguish. Beautifully written. I wish there was more peace in the world. LHN
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Nothing wrong with being dark, especially when tragedies are being play out. Excellent poem
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Dark, yes, but still written with such brilliance 🙂
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That’s a killer last line, Viv.
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In this age of instant news coverage, we cannot avoid being part of the suffering.
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Strong and dark, Viv. The confusion during and after airstrikes must be horrific. Mothers wailing is so sad.
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I can’t get the images of suffering out of my head.
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Hard not to enter dark places Viv – we shouldn’t be afraid or despairing of them – it is part, I think, of what poetry is for – that it is able to touch these places and to make them accessible to other people. Brave poem.
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Thanks Brigid.
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I’m not up to date to the most recent world events … but the poignant sadness of this poem brings the horrors of our modern world alive … and very close ..
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This is like a poetry bomb…explosive and yet contained in conveying the wisdom of understanding what it feels like to be ‘struck’
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Yes, there is not a lot to be bright and cheery about lately.
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There is so much grief and sadness connected with hospitals that obscure the positive nature of healing. This is especially so when the injuries and diseases being treated could so easily be avoided.
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