Bombing

Their clotted flesh is strewn
in puddled blood
observed through smoky tears. 
A witless horror staggers
in the hammered atmosphere,
a wailing siren nears.

Below the jingoistic roar 
as hate-bombs swagger in the air,
in his head he longs to hear
a just-enlisted pacifist,
a dazed apology from war.

George H Northrup

New Hyde Park, NY

Donated to the International Committee of the Red Cross