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TWO WOMEN Claywoman |
©
Two women sitting in the evening light.
Thinking of their day past,
Both remember rising, dressing,
Caring for their family
Both shopped part of the day.
Two women sitting in the evening light.
Listening to the voices of neighboring children
While watching their own running with laughter.
Dishes still sit on the table,
The remnants of dinner heartily eaten.
Two women sitting in the evening light.
Drinking the last of their evening coffee,
Knowing theyre work is not finished
But reluctant to rise from the last warmth of the day;
To break this peaceful moment of perfection.
Two women sitting in the evening light
Slightly worried about their husbands,
And their oldest sons who are far away
Serving their country.
Knowing these men believe what they do is right.
Two women sitting in the evening light.
Slowly take a last rock before rising again.
Think of the last time they saw their men.
The goodbyes were hard and tears shed,
But not until the men were gone.
Two women sitting in the evening light,
Remembering wars past and the foreboding of wars coming.
They worry but they are strong in their belief
Of right and wrong, and are sure their men will be safe.
For God is on the side of the righteous.
Two women sitting in the evening light.
They think of what needs to be done,
The dishes, bathing their children, clothes to wash and fold,
And then hopefully dreamless sleep.
Reluctant to leave, they glance at the sludge at the bottom of their cups.
Two women sitting in the evening light.
Sigh as they watch the waning warmth
Knowing they cannot put off what needs to be done,
Slowly, one rises from her chair to enter her house.
Turning away from the street she leave the peacefulness of the night.
Suddenly, her fears comes true.
The sounds of war, the smells of war, the taste of war
Forecast yet hoped against happen.
The screams of neighbors as their houses explode,
The screams of her own children, mix with screams of adults.
The sky explodes with shrapnel, with flares, with bits of airplanes,
Bits of rockets rain down on mothers, children, and elders
Making no differential between soldiers and families.
Fire falls from the sky so peaceful moments ago.
The woman holds her breath and then shrieks in anguish.
She sees her precious daughter enveloped in fire,
She watches her die in agony.
She tries to run for the others
But she is stopped by the dropping of a bomb next door.
Her last thought is of her husband, her children, and the pain of the future.
One woman sits in the evening light,
And starts to rise.
She notices a car coming slowly down the road,
She sees the emblem she fears the most.
It stops in front of her fence.
One woman once seated in the evening light,
Knows what is coming, tears silently streaming
The soldier steps out of the car and walks slowly toward her.
She holds her breath while her head screams no!
Which one will not return, which one shall she never see?
One woman once seated in the evening light
Hears the words but doesnt comprehend.
Both her husband and her son lost their lives
On this warm, perfect night
Along way from home in planes screaming from the sky.
Two women sitting in the evening light,
Both lost, one in death, one in madness
Both gone from memory, never to return.
Both had one memory, one connection
Broken now, forever lost.
© 2003
J. Britton
All Rights Reserved
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Claywoman
Author of:
Clouds
Are the Creator's Fingerprints
(Claywoman)
Herman
the Hermit Crab & Friends
(Jacqueline Anastasia)
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