Refugees

Eastwards  Westwards
we know the direction
Playing tricks with the mind
We thought we knew the best
Down Convents Hill
the stone Angels sing
Desertion is not even an option
open the flanks
play your banjo
In evening we have everything to gain
in the holy calm
the marble passages
past our golden days
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace