Basra, Iraq
March 27, 2003
She hung from the tree, her necklace shining in the sunlight, sunlight glinting, flashing across the fields. Her necklace, her choker of steel, a cable strung over branches cutting the spring bark, strangling the spring flow, scaring, scaring the reminders for generations each spring should they see another spring. She hung from the tree, shrouded in the monotonous tone swirling ‘round—diaphanous wings beating the excitement of their treasure across the fields. No hand waves them away, the hand hanging limply by her side, for her there will never be another spring. Nor will there be for these swirling flies, their short life sweetened by her presence, her example to others-- Fear! She hung from the tree, her only crime a shy wave of her now limp hand as we passed, our armor clanking, our eyes squinting in the sunlight, glinting, flashing across the fields vigilant, sorting brown skins categorizing. Iraqis deserve freedom! |
© March, 2003