Nightly News

author’s note:

A short poem…

…that took me sixty-eight years to write.


NIGHTLY NEWS

I am wounded.  And so is this world:

I hear my pain repeated on the nightly news.

Whether those at the horn use cool reason
or scold and threaten
beneath their words I hear them plead:
How can we end all this wounding?
How can we heal all these wounds?

I believe we all mourn our failure:
even those who celebrate
the wounding they do—
they bellow and sing
to bury the cry of grief within.

Sometimes I tire of trying
to heal this wound—
I ask myself:
Why not sleep until death wakes you?

But then I hear the wounds of the world again
weeping on the nightly news.

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