Aleppo
A father sings to his son,
dead two days,
and the platitudes persist.
Widow of night. Lantern’s trick.
What trace, you wonder,
exists of humanity in these etched
walls? Light bleeds through a crack
like rules unheeded and scattered.
Another sheer looming of hours.
The song, continued.
“Aleppo” was first published in Vox Populi in August 2018. I am grateful to editor Michael Simms for his continuing support of my work.
O at the Edges 
Haunting
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Thank you very much. The world we live in is haunting!
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The world we live in… Are we all living in the same world… Infinite possibilities of infinite realities seems real particularly since truth has become unmoored from reality. Now that we play choose your media we, as a culture, have little in common. We’ve become quite unmoored from one another. Your words reflect that haunted, hunted feeling one gets when cut off from the reality we come to expect.
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Very poignant. And reminds of places and people where there has been so mischievous loss and devastation. I must get on with reading The Beekeeper of Aleppo.
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So much hatred and destruction…
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