Walking through The Square
I could hear anger and anguish
spill out of two drunk quarrelers.

They look about my age.

They're facing each other.
Instinctively I fear for her.
I can make out their words
and that's all it takes.
In an instant I realize
their unfathomable pain.

"I'll never see my child again" she wailed
and he screamed "it doesn't matter",
Their past clinging to them;
Couldn't look away.

"He was so small", she despaired and collapsed
while he stormed off but only managed about 10 paces
before he too threw himself onto the ground and lay crumpled

at the foot of the dry fountain-bed.