Charles J. Ingerson


Into ever-small windows
hither comes the breeze
whatever nature allows
to cool or even freeze.

Small cribs line the wall
infants snuggled so tight
in swaddling clothes all
snug throughout the night.

Yet where are the parents
come the tears and sighs
wars awesome punishments
which history ever denies.

So many of the unloved
sacrificed into lost homes
rudely and harshly shoved
placed almost as stones.

Mothers and fathers at war
dying in the fields of hate
of another nation’s core
this killing never to abate.

Tears and sighs profound
with a small amount of heat
echoed whispers only sound
in these families defeat