Aug. 9, 2006

NINE AMBULANCES IN TYRE

a buried child's toy
a fly took note
of a buried child's toy
eking out its
playful tune, laying
it out in the jet singed
air over Tyre

In the rubble it played,
alighting on pieces of flesh,
hands emerging from the
white dust clutching a
child, the dust like
talcum powder on its ear
exposed to the light
in the sere air of
the sunlight, the fly
can travel much faster
and lighter than nine
ambulances in Tyre