Wednesday 12 September 2012

In Memoriam

There is no-one to call her name
or keep a vigil, she isn’t me or you
not every life is weighed the same
not all deaths are quite equal value


an orphaned, unknown fruit seller
a crushed mass as she passes by
on her usual beat among the lonely squalor
of the crowded roads her days occupy


mongrels sniff at what looks like blood
a bunch of grapes in the ditch lies squashed
vultures dip out their solemn hoods
couple days and the whole is washed


the city gets back to its usual business
no-one notices one fruit seller less.

Over at dVerse poets are observing a minute of silence to remember and honour the victims of 9/11.  This post is very respectfully dedicated to the many thousand nameless victims of terrorism in my own country, as well as those in the wider world. 


  1. What a sorrowful tale, and a true one. The poetry has such authenticity. One can feel the pulse of humanity struggling on even though the spirit of loss must hang in the air, and the consciousness of all be affected by it. Strong and vital poem in celebration of lives lost. Bravo!

    1. It seems the world gets peppered with more and more sorowful tales...harrowing...all the more important to celebrate what we have...thank you for the visit and your comment

  2. ugh...hard read....the he face of tragedy says much of you in recognizing her as well...sad tale...

    1. too much aggression...too much violence...intolerance completely out of bounds in the pockets where I am...thank you for coming over and the feedback

    2. it can be that overload, esp when it is out of the ordinary...there are far too many though that go unnoticed...

    3. compassion isn't the struggle...the real struggle is being mindful, as you be fully in the moment, whether horrifying or wonderful...thanks

  3. It's such a shame, but truth how some go unnoticed. Doesn't need to be a big scale tragedy, but any tragedy.

    1. very true...mindfulness does not come easy. Thank you for stopping here and your comment.