Five loaves and two fishes

I wish that I could wave a magic wand
and cast a spell far, far beyond
the primetime plea,
that fleeting glimpse, of how it is
for those outside the favoured state;
And I wish that I could turn
each speck of dust to sustenance
a yearly crop of corn, a field or two;
no more.

But I can smell the icy air,
can tell there is but scarce a care
as devils feed the fiercely mocking flames
and kids throw pebbles here and there;
uncaring that the waves will take them, or the cold,
to that dark place where none grow old;
no moon or stars, or glimmer left to tell
the sounding of the final bell.

4 comments

  1. Douglas,

    This one, especially the ending, aches.

    The love and the distress is evident in every line.
    A so sad subject so beautifully done.

    This poem should be put on the screen during
    “the primetime plea,”.

    It shows and tells so much more than all their hours.

    Sarah

    Like

  2. Hi Douglaus

    Fine poem and something that should be heard again and again!!I am with you and others in this beautiful verse calling for compassion, generosity and change. Sadly, there is ” an iciness in the air” and our officials and others have other concerns.

    And I wish that I could turn
    each speck of dust to sustenance
    a yearly crop of corn, a field or two;
    no more.

    But I can smell the icy air,
    can tell there is but scarce a care

    Again, thank you for sharing this one. It really haunts as it should and one that I will be back to read.]

    My Best
    Wendy

    Like

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