Shared with Public BLOGGED APR 3, 2023
She smiles in the kitchen
H. W. Bryce
She smiles as she dances in the kitchen
From ice box to sink to counter to stove,
Humming as she goes, happy as a lark.
But is she? Some melancholy cloud
Hangs…Hark!
What strange passings haunt her mind?
What secret tragedies hang as clouds?
There is something about her movements,
Some strange, inexplicable terror awaits…
Exposure to ruin the patina of happiness,
What spoiler of contentment? Something.
Not yet explainable, too painful to talk
About, too dangerous to expose. Something…
She thinks of her sister, back there…
—
She smiles in her kitchen, now that they are gone,
Like half of the roof and two of the walls. They
Had come, they had bombed, they had raped and they
Had left. And she was hanging on to the tatters
Of her self respect, carryig on, duty bound, still
Filled with the love for her wee daughter, resting
Behind the rubble, hidden from the raid and the raiders.
She had started a small fire with smashed furniture
Pieces, salvaged an iron frying pan, and scrounged
Three eggs from a hen nesting on a broken couch.
Yet she sings, in her happy place, her refuge, her
Place of celebration and former happiness. She sings
In her kitchen, her now open-air kitchen, pining,
Pining for her fighting husband defender. She sings for
Her wee babe, to give her courage, to remind her
Of love. Night will soon be coming into this night
Of the empty shirt. She will hold her daughter
So close to her, and she will sing songs of hope.
Pray for the day that things are set right…
— —
And still the war goes on;
And still Ukrania stands.
— —
Image:
What has this got to do with Humanity?
— Photo taken from televison news.
(no copyright infringement intended. Used through fair use practice,
for promotion of literature and promotion of humanitarianism.)
