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© Jo Hewitt THE TEAL MANGO, 2011

My friend Al posted a haiku dedicated to the “Midnight sighing of the poor”

Springtime hills grow red
As bright Afghan poppies bloom
With war’s addiction.

(Albert Black- 2011)

These are my response.

The Poppy Grave

Metal spewing blood.
Mettle through unending blood.
Metal taste of blood.

Such poppies this year!
They unceasingly feed on
Blood of my children.

Waiting your return.
Bombs reigned over your work field.
Your tea has grown cold.

 

Poppies by Oznat Tzadok

Poppies by Oznat Tzadok

 

 

 

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