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Expat Poetry |Our darkest fears have washed ashore

Expat Poetry |Our darkest fears have washed ashore

Our darkest fears have washed ashore

 

This time it’s not a whale

washed ashore by ungovernable forces

 

There is no twitch

in the body lifeless

 

Sharp as a dagger of silent horror

we collectively scream

 

Unfathomable sadness

too deep to contemplate

 

Our fingers point in the easiest direction

to those responsible

 

They have mothers who come to their rescue

from the crowd seeking unspeakable revenge

 

We all have mothers

but it’s the father’s open mouth caught in a silent scream…

 

John Richardson