MS804
While they were up there
God took them home
Not to be taken as a platitude
Anger remains below
Confusion, aching concern
Managing all that’s in
The brain and
The human heart
That breaks in the world
Around, while more loss
Is measured out
And poured over like
Ashes, reminders that peace
Is not on board
Above or on the ground
War of attack
War of flawed things
The first mark being profit
Safety will never work as second
clcouch123 
May 19, 2016 at 10:48 pm
“Loss measured out and poured over like ashes”–wow, what a striking line.
May 21, 2016 at 5:18 pm
Thank you. Sadly, I’m sure the crash literally made ashes.
May 21, 2016 at 10:22 pm
Yes indeed, tragic.
May 20, 2016 at 6:50 am
The tragedy of our world is measured with the weigh of a mother’s sighs.
Evocative piece my friend.
Dajena 🙂
May 21, 2016 at 5:20 pm
Thank you and you’re right, of course. A mother’s reaction is the better measure. We should try that–officially, internationally.
Christopher
May 22, 2016 at 6:20 am
yes we should 😀
May 20, 2016 at 10:00 am
Sigh, yes, first mark will always be profit. Seems heartbreaks will continue in this world, sadly.
Great poem, my dear friend Christopher.
May 21, 2016 at 5:22 pm
Annie, dear friend, thank you. Mere profit is a terrible motivation, be it political or monetary. Imagine if we were free of that to find and grow, singly and together, in good and truly productive ways.
May 22, 2016 at 9:20 am
What a wonderful, magnificent world that would be, my dear friend.