Thursday, May 10, 2012

Ausencio

how do you sit with it?

a grown man,
unable to read, to write
in his own language
let alone yours, a foreign tongue
here, in an unfriendly land
unable to look you in the eye
or speak loud enough for you to
make out his words
the first time

how do you sit with the
injustice of it?
that by place of birth
circumstance
and chance
you were given so much more than him?

how do you sit
with the suffering of soul
the loss of confidence
the absence of dignity
pride abandoned, or thought undeserved
or maybe beaten out of him

how do you sit
with it?

maybe you don't
maybe you just drive home crying
and pant and wail to the sky
pushing palms of feet and hands
into the ground
asking, begging for it to be taken

how do you sit,
with this man named Absence
whose downcast eyes
have pierced you through, unexpectedly
on a thursday afternoon

maybe you don't or
maybe you do
maybe it's unexpected thursday afternoons
that call and call and call you to
be a balm for suffering
however you can
here,
in an unfriendly land.

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