Written by Joni Caggiano
scant trees hold precious life in soil
downpours run without mercy
flushing minerals into low lands
charcoal created from the sparse bush
tiny fingers burn on hot boiling pot
of small green leaves collected
overfished waters leave nets lying empty
silent goat bones weave like shadows
stomachs ache like a black tooth decaying
blank stares of a slave child with a swollen belly
chained underneath the iron bed frame
outline of a starving dog, teats swinging,
maggots feasting on her back
the rainy season is all but a bad memory
rats no longer come to scuttle
they, too, seek refuge from the thunderous flooding
like lids on bottles, they lay on
sleeping children in mud huts who don’t dream
sunset, sunrise the disparity of years,
like a train on tracks that will never end
still dark, families start their long walk
to the clinic now with hope
pursuing treatment for prickling shingles,
eyes like darkened windows, from infections and worms that come in through
bare feet leaching weak lives
sores, rashes, and unknown diseases
from bathing in filthy brackish water fetching pain
darkness approaches as many are
now turned away
nurses spent, yet we are voyeurs on vacation
strolling along to our comfy structure,
yet I am thankful for the dark
stars filling the silent skies like
tiny reminders of the lost
as deforestation shows its fangs
thinking of how to stop thinking
while fearing the cause is lost
memories of this mission etched in brain cells
guilty of the taste of fried plantains
lingering from our breakfast
never have I seen such strength, courage,
and beauty in human spirits
grateful for the clean cot, I collapse
air conditioning cooling red skin from the days’ heat
lights finally out, and I am thankful
the mindless chatter has stopped
red tears float my cot through luxuries access
into the trivial cooling of baked land
where blue tears of hope shine now
in the light of the full moon as her eyes
see and hear the cries of this country
my sorrow shreds my stirring heart
how do I leave and
how can they stay,
doubting I will ever rest again
I weep hopeful petals as I pray
Text © Joni Caggiano
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The saying ‘the truth hurts’ is most accurate here.
So sad, Joni. It’s really a merciless existence. One can only wonder…why?
It’s a beautiful poem. 🙂
Stunning poem Joni. You take us on a dark journey. 💙🙏💙
Thank you all for your gracious and thoughtful comments. I so appreciate everyone who reads and or comments on my piece. I have to share that when I first started my blog and was looking at on-line magazines I found THE EDGE OF HUMANITY! I was so touched by the beauty and raw truth that one can explore there. It has been a dream of mine to be published on this educational and stunning magazine. So a big thanks to Joelcy Kay – Editor and Curator. Joni
Ohh Congratulations my friend, both for the honor ( I love this magazine and their art and poetry) and also for your words…so raw and real and true. How well you paint this sad portrait of hopelessness, poverty, and unlivable conditions…abandoned by most of the world. Your heart is so big…your descriptions so powerful…You shock the sleeping world, awake with your word painting in super-realism. Big hugs Joni…You are amazing!
Dark and brave.
How little, and, miniscule we all are in the faces of, nature’s, forces, and we need to, learn, to, respect that…