Dear Brother

Grief stricken Hermione cradling Dobby

If I were brave, I’d hide from
the gas, the bombs
and even the filthy sky.

But, instead, I sniff my water carefully.
I tune my ears to ultra high pitches
as the television pronounces
and the radio announces
and the smart-phone tickles my fingertips.

It may seem I’m rather helpless,
Dear Brother,
but don’t worry:
I’ll make sure they put a stone on your grave.

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Hear this on chirbit

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Written for:

Poetics: The Art Of Rebellion

Photo credit:  Huw Evans Picture Agency  © 2009 all rights reserved.  Daily Mail — UK