COMMENDED,
SIDERIUS SHORT POETRY
COMPETITION, 2024
SIDERIUS SHORT POETRY
COMPETITION, 2024
There is a shiny crescent moon of skin on the back of the child’s head
where her hair did not grow back after the machete strike
A scar, a badge, a tattoo, a reminder of what happened in that church
They were seeking safety from their neighbors, packed in rows of pews
Perhaps you saw the photos? Bodies piled upon bodies
Perhaps you think it only happens somewhere else (but you know)
There is a notebook in the church
The visitors are supposed to write in it, the child says pointing
It seems a flimsy memorial to what happened here
The empty pews scream silently: Genocide
So in the crypt, they lay the bones on top of bones
so many, so carefully cleaned, preserved
Mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters (like you and me)
Silent visitors press a pencil down on the notebook’s lined paper
“Never again,” they write
Again and again and again
where her hair did not grow back after the machete strike
A scar, a badge, a tattoo, a reminder of what happened in that church
They were seeking safety from their neighbors, packed in rows of pews
Perhaps you saw the photos? Bodies piled upon bodies
Perhaps you think it only happens somewhere else (but you know)
There is a notebook in the church
The visitors are supposed to write in it, the child says pointing
It seems a flimsy memorial to what happened here
The empty pews scream silently: Genocide
So in the crypt, they lay the bones on top of bones
so many, so carefully cleaned, preserved
Mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters (like you and me)
Silent visitors press a pencil down on the notebook’s lined paper
“Never again,” they write
Again and again and again
