Drone

death of an innocent

The morning thick with heat and dust,

as a small boy sits on a doorstep,

his mother making tea for his father`s guests

who talk in soft voices, he dreams

of his land as a place of peace, the hope

he carries in his young head, but

there is no birdsong, no crickets, the

village dogs lost in the day`s hard light

as if the morning is untimely, 

something wrong he will never understand.

Reviews

[michael.c.m]

this says it all, with a soft sadness. mea culpa. dreams shattered from a distance.

[emmajoy]

Seems like a rite of passage, a happening so new the boy doesn't know how it came about or how it will effect his life. You've created a near tableau of NOW - nothing before, nothing ahead .. a moment, an atmosphere, held inside the lad's lack of understanding .. for the moment. This reader wants to know more.

[Ruth]

Tenderly balanced!
It strikes me your writing is threaded with such empathy, stunning! xoxo

[BatFan38]

Beautiful. A bit sad also

[Brittany]

I really liked how your description put me right there in the scene. My mouth dry from the heat and dust...the foreboding the silence....the sense of hope and dread...it makes me think of a scene before war...with the boys innoncence soon to be lost.

[seaNobody]

I want to know more! It leaves me wondering, brought into a scene and having the stage set for a story! Wonderful!

[Dr. Wood ?]

yes, unsettling but quite beautiful....To have to read that that is not there...

[Emily B]

there is always so much more to the story that we are left to fill in . . . a painful moment but full of beauty