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10 angels

They were gathering firewood, the girls.
Why were they all together?
Was it a new hunting-ground to them, or a place they’d been before?
Were they chatting and laughing as they picked up twigs and small branches?
Were they singing an old song taught them
by their mothers and grandmothers?
When her sandaled (or bare) foot
tripped the trigger,
did the girl hear a metallic click
before all sounds merged into one?

There are always questions with death,
reverberating into a vast silence.

The news report said,
In a statement, Gen. John R. Allen, the commander of American
and international forces in Afghanistan, said he was saddened by
the girls’ deaths. “Over three decades of conflict, Afghanistan
became one of the most heavily mined countries on earth,” he said.

In an instant they knew the speed of angels.

No need now to gather firewood;
Instead, they will collect finer things:
half a world away,
20 new arrivals needing guidance
are blinking in bewilderment.

And so it goes.

Comments

has stuck with me for a while, as have the things that inspired it. I can't even say if it's any good or not, just that it stuck with me, and I'm still sad and angry with the world.