FOUR FEATHERS PRESS ONLINE EDITION: PANTOUM FESTIVAL Send up to three pantoums on any subject, totaling up to 150 lines in length, in the body of an email message or attached in a Word file to donkingfishercampbell@gmail.com by 11:59 PM PST on December 15th. No PDF's please. Color artwork is also desired. Please send in JPG form. No late submissions accepted. Poets and artists published in Four Feathers Press Online Edition: Pantoum Festival will be published online and will be invited to read at the Saturday Afternoon Poetry Zoom meeting on Saturday, December 16th between 3 and 5 pm PST.

Friday, December 15, 2023

R A Ruadh

The unofficial uncounted


The pile of rubble was her home

The dogs are lurking all around

For them there was no Iron Dome

Drones and bombs the only sound


The dogs are lurking all around

She guards her family with her tears

Drones and bombs the only sound

She speaks her love and no-one hears


She guards her family with her tears

First generation now the last

She speaks her love and no-one hears

The future has become the past


She was the first and now the last

A living gravestone waiting to die

The future has become the past

Dust shifts and corpses softly sigh


A living gravestone waiting to die

For them there was no Iron Dome

Dust shifts and corpses softly sigh

The pile of rubble was her home


Six hours before the pause a family dies in a bombing.  One child blown 20 meters by the blast.  The others buried and unrecoverable. The 71 year old grandmother sits atop the rubble, keeping vigil and protecting her descendants from hungry dogs.  

Reported on CNN.

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