Refugees

   by Mimi Ferraro

 
Night.
on this dark windless road  we walk,
never stop watching our feet,
afraid to  stumble.   Endless grim dance
shuffle.  Inside our heads, the disembodied sing.
Pale savior stands at the gate.
Distant sirens, artillery bursts splinter.
Soldier raises rifle.
Nearby field: rasping crow, rising dust,
sky, a broken mirror.