Tropical sun shines sharply, forcing faces down
The penitent position
Of a man newly hung
“When the elephants fight
It is the grass that suffers.”

Refugees slide slowly toward the ragged edge
Diaspora into darkness
Shoeless journey into air
“When the elephants fight
It is the grass that suffers.”

Dusty human mosaics burn slowly in the sun
Fragile forms holding hope
Home, when the game is done
When the elephants fight
It is the grass that suffers.