I Thought I Saw You There
I thought I saw you there
among the ruins,
where smoldering trees cower in fear
and blue birds with broken wings dive into burning rivers,
where disembodied dreams wallow in self-pity
and sunflowers wander aimlessly in the desert.
I thought I saw you there
among the debris,
clawing at cement and shoes and dolls,
assembling bodies from unrelated parts,
sifting dead earth for bits of memories
and finding only a heaving well of collective grief.
There,
in Empire’s arsenal,
a bullet is born with a target
and waits patiently for its time.
There,
on Empire’s killing fields,
the number of dead is surpassed
only by the number of tears.
There,
in Empire’s wake,
we bury our morality deep
and our redemption deeper.
But there,
among the ruins,
wisps of life cling fiercely to hope.
There,
among the debris,
pieces of possibility search for one another.
I thought I saw you there
among the disposable,
hurling shards of rage against Empire’s walls,
singing in seven thousand languages,
harmonizing across borders,
clinging fiercely to hope.
There,
among the ruins,
I saw you look at me and smile,
and I knew then that we would win.
Danny is a writer, a retired hydrogeologist, and a red diaper baby. With the love of his life, Maggie, who passed away in 2019, he raised two wonderful daughters and now basks in the glow of four grandsons and one granddaughter. He is the author of Thoughts-Letter (thoughtsletter.substack.com), his outlet for fictional and non-fictional musings.