After 9/11" © ®
by Anne MacMillan
"The Beggar's Lament"
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Look at them
Sitting at their fancy tables
sipping their lattes -
while all the dust whirls round and round
and shifts to make a pathway -
What do we do,
but sigh and relent the end of day -
does He know why?
Grass is green
but concrete dust is over all -
no shoes on -
Solid flesh and wraith forlorn
Falling, towards who knows where
Feel your cheek - scratches there
On your forehead - grains of sand
Is it fair,
that all is lost
for those who lost?
None have won for those undone -
Bitter enemy - on others' land.