|Photo by Phil Plait, Bad Astronomy|
Birds rise, sun in their throats,
and each note sung
The mother sobs.
Her son is dead, murdered by police.
whitest cupped petals
float silent onto grass.
A woman raped,
hanged, her eyes opened. A priest nods.
On the pond beyond green bank
oaks reflect; fish
pass through shade.
Isis annihilates homes,
beheads an American journalist.
Before baling, the hayfield’s
crumpled waves break
Forgiveness bleeds out.
Dawn clenches clouds like fists.
Susan Roney-O'Brien lives in Princeton, MA, has won the William and Kingman Page Poetry Book Award, been nominated for 5 Pushcart Prizes, been selected NEATE's Poet-of-the-Year, works with young writers to publish their books, and has published widely in literary magazines.