I saw the angel
and the singing birds slaughtered.
I saw the horse,
the grieving women,
the dead trees, and other women
inured to screams and wailing.
I saw the streets, the gusting wind,
the sports cars
racing by, the boats, the innocent kids.
I said, ‘Master of the Water, this is
how things are: tell me about the clay,
the fire, the smoke, the shadows, the smell
of reality.’ Deliberately, I did not ask
about our homes.