life after bombs (poem)

no birds came after that day
seeds lay unsprouted in the
sterile earth
shadows fought for space
among lives that once stood
and the sunlight filtered through, thin
like the last drops of blood
from a body with no more to give
life is nothing: this we know
a mad dance of candles in
a night that swallows all
but come inside-
our soup is rich with neighbors;
our fire is warm with love;
we continue.
the thin strong silk of humanity
gives this patchwork of destruction
continuity
yet-
my breast aches
my heart has lost color
i must fill the canvas of a new life
with the white paint of death
my child is dead
the wars have made craters
of fruit-bearing orchards
where the dead wander
with the living
and we are all made
ghosts
---
poem by jay felton. feel free to use, please keep intact.