They must have seen it.

There was a place, here, in this space,

And behind this place there was a field,

over there they used to play,

They kicked and ran inside the field.

I heard their laughs and felt their grins

I felt their happiness like the sun in June

They always ran past our gate

They ran home to eat, and came back at noon

They flung themselves into life like birds

diving in and out of the sky,

We watched them grow just an inch or so

then watched their happiness as it bled dry

We found their bodies in the ruins

this space, this place, it became their graves

It became their plight.

Their eyes open, they, at least, must have seen

the sky turn,

not red.

But a fluttering blue and white.


Nesha Usmani

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