The Aftermath

little boy holds tight to her momma’s dress

he is thin except for that bulge in his stomach

he cries hungry-

no tears fall, he’s exhausted

he weaned when his sister came-

but the tummy forces them to share momma’s dry breasts

trees are all down

the rain stopped

too much sunshine made the desert

then came hunger and desperation-


then came the war

daddy was killed

8 thoughts on “The Aftermath

  1. Ayieko I know we will, as a species, have to atone for our actions, yet why must the innocent babies suffer from the sins of overlords in power? I watched a movie last night, “Black 47,” that talks about the Irish potato famine in 1847 that killed 1/3 of the population of Ireland. It details how the British “landlords” took the grain harvests from the farmers and shipped it to Britain and evicted the sharecroppers from the land in the middle of winter by pulling the thatch roofs off of their homes. The imagery in that movie, similar to the image you used today with your poem, cannot be forgotten.

    Liked by 1 person

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