THE VENDOR'S CAGE

For you. Whoever
you are. You

with eyes
made red from
twenty-five years.

The pain of seeing
the world. Afghanistan.

For you. Whose hands
are gone
through punishment

of living. You
who know these

things. Darkness
of man's inhumanity.
That we should

comprehend such suffering.
Sometimes the bleeding

cannot stop
until life
stops. Stand

now proud & strong
among us.

You. Whoever you
are. Handless woman
of courage. Stand

now the dream
of reading & writing

without hands. Tonight
animals stir awake

without hands.
Tonight,

somewhere, a bird
is listening
for its song

without hands.
First sight. For you.

Whoever you are. Listen.
Through trees shaken
by forming. Listen

for futures. For
sounds that must

not stop. Sound
of laughter
and forgetting. Sound

of astonishment & beauty.
Tonight your hands

will stop their bleeding.
Your eyes
will dry on footsteps

of mountains. Come
with us bright

appearance.
Free from
the vendor's cage.

--------

CLOSE. ALONE.

Into the softness
of this room
a bird rises branch
to branch
from my mouth. Watches
night stars. The wind
wrestles with my dreams.
I am among trees today.
Hearing voices.
Holding on.

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