Let me touch a baby elephant
who lost her mother to poachers
to trust again
and thank the grown man
who convinced her
of reason to live.
Let me hold the 18 month old girl
who survived the tornado in Arkansas
sheltered by her parent’s dead bodies;
then watch her grow to be
a woman with dandelion's knack for color
and ferocious strength and softness.
Let me listen at the door of the closet where inside
a daughter sits huddled on the floor alone
grieving the loss of her mother,
business partner and best friend all in one,
all at once; Let me say to her,
I hear you, have not a clue how much pain you are in, and I am here
The earthquake killed nearly 9000 and injured
many more in Nepal. And I find that meaningless.
Whisper something close so that I may feel again.
Please let me know someone from the start by detail,
to know what it is
to know, not a thousand hardly,
just one truly
and prove a thousand lives of suffering were just tests
leading to a life well lived
note: all stories in 'just one, truly' were reported in one issue of The Week spring 2015.
*'just one, truly' continues posting poems written as part of the 2014 - 2015 monthly revolving witness at Extinction Witness while I'm editing a six-year collection.
New daily poems resume once the collection goes to the publisher.