This Lonely Sip

Living down the mouth
Of darkened waters steaming
Into my cup

Crumbling bricks like
Crackers into this tea of despair
This lonely sip

Overhead the sky embraces it clouds
Rolling over their mounds and playful colors
Darkening like eyes in candlelight dying

I watch from the cold footsteps
Farther away than movies’ heroes
Isolated like a gene under an eternal microscope

I scream as a tree hits the ground
But neither of us make a sound

That answers that.

[Written during my years working in northern Uganda’s IDP camps.]

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