header image 2  
Poetry from within
   

Nameless


Politicians

from many countries

meet at a table

and speak

of acceptable losses.



The rest of us wrap

our loved ones in our flags

get back in line to catch

the next son, daughter.

sister, or brother,

the lover, husband, or wife

who’ll fall quickly and dead.



Named, are nameless

to those who sit at that table,

speak of acceptable losses,

barter a peace that never comes,



then, break for dinner.


Jean M. Hendrickson