A Quiet Mourning

Be quiet sister, be quiet
the milkless mother
said to the weeping supermodel
as she patted her bullet proof vest
and gave an awkward smile to the camera

Be quiet sister, be quiet
As the camera scanned
amongst the munduls
for the gap, the gap
Where her boys had played
Her three boys

Be quiet sister be quiet
Did they turn to the whistle
Gasping, grasping, cowering
from the mighty metal soldier
who did not pledge dignity

Who entered with a warrior's thrust
Ripping through the walls
through their little bodies
Be quiet sister, be quiet

fingers and toes fingers and toes
that is what I counted when you were born
Did she? fingers and toes, fingers and toes
Did she gather their little bodies to her chest

How long did their wails resonate,
Did their wet cheeks stain the sand
Before disappearing and dispersing
across treaded land
Be quiet sister, be quiet.

Don't be quiet little one,
you are her sister,
we are all sisters
Cry for her, scream for her.
Rage for her,
Be heard