I look, I see, I watch
a mother in the streets
trying to provide for her kids.
The sight of bypassing strangers
creates hope and solidarity
for a possibility to leave this cruel life.
The mother wonders,
about the unencumbered distance beyond her.
She sits, cradling her baby.
A weary tear of innocence runs down her face,
the dark despair of silence is a burden.
The day darkens and the cast of light,
reflects off the moon.
The mother lays on the cold cement,
watching the rings of stars circle above.
She closes her eyes, singing herself to sleep,
waiting for a peaceful life to grace her dreams.
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These images are works of Dorothea Lange. She expresses the grappling difficulties of desolation.
This poem was written beyond my imagination of devastation. The world should realize that there are still people beyond our measures who suffer and search for a way out.
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