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 
I was moved by this poem.
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We live in scary times.
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We certainly do. The recent mass shooting at a Walmart was in a city where my family and I lived for a number of years.
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There are too many of these incidents!
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The worst of it is that they seem to have become normalized.
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Goosebumps!
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There could be no better response! Thank you.
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