Mali by Mike Tolhurst
At four in the morning
here in New Zealand
I think of your face
blackened and foreboding
beset with tribulation
from time deals in woes
that never seem to disappear.
Forces religiously disguised
under a sky tinged with green
and red
shed on the yellow earth
sinking back into the land
which has always been there.
A son
boxing on foreign soil
in a war
far from where you belong
in the portals of our hearts
which know you are there
while we lie
helpless and unknowing
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 3:59 AM UTC
Mali by Mike Tolhurst
At four in the morning
here in New Zealand
I think of your face
blackened and foreboding
beset with tribulation
from time deals in woes
that never seem to disappear.
Forces religiously disguised
under a sky tinged with green
and red
shed on the yellow earth
sinking back into the land
which has always been there.
A son
boxing on foreign soil
in a war
far from where you belong
in the portals of our hearts
which know you are there
while we lie
helpless and unknowing
This is a poem to all those of us parents who have kids fighting in foreign wars
