More of the Shame

More of the Shame

We walk this morning to the reservoirs,
these great pools filled with winter rains,
filled to overflowing like broken hearts.
We await the coming of the geese
skimming in like military drones.

Far away the cruel satanic choirs
of shells chant barbarous refrains
reminding us humanity departs
when ignorance undoes our sense of peace.
We hear the sound of tramping from their homes,

the several thousand years of refugees,
their haunting songs bewildered on the breeze.
Published
Categorized as Poems

By Arthur Richardson

Very part time poem maker. Retired from paid work.

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