Pink and blue the paradise hue of weeping flowers on dust grit dunes
They wait in vain for soldiers’ names bleeding bile and collateral shame
Blackened palm trees
Ooze sweat and grief
As children scream for democracy
And pomegranate blossoms stain desert sands
While allied forces bomb the land
Star shaped blooms with leaves of green
And fragrant petals of silken cream
Await their fate with shrunken pride
As rocket launchers seize the night
Purple, Iris, Lotus Rose
Sliced on Kodak with mangled toes
And tulips spiked with canon fire
Leave belly guts in makeshift pyres
Juniper, date, and pin wheel buds
Stung with shrapnel – clotted with mud
And from the scabbing surface shell
The charred cinder spark of a dead man’s smell
Cluster plants sprayed with oil
Guerrilla triggers clip the soil
Petals bruised, now scored with hate
Swollen clouds seeping rain
And with the morning dew comes love
Electric sunlight and turtle doves
Singing chords of hope and peace
A wall of flowers in perfect unity
Saira Viola
