Silent Witness- poem

By, J. Lynn Dickson

It is the movement, the fire
Kinetic life to which I raise my glass
Dedicating the lighting of the cigarette
To the sounds below that reach up to be heard
So familiar are the wars
I can follow the tracks of fury with my ear
Plates batter the wall
Landing in shards on the tile
The enemy is there
Hissing the words of a man
That never knew love
She sputters blood, teeth
And tears
The words of a woman begging
To remain whole
He is crouched in the corner, head bowed
Praying
Or weeping
Because no one taught him
How to save his father's soul
His mother's spirit
How to see if there is enough grace
Left for him
Sometimes she leaves on a stretcher
Sometimes he leaves in handcuffs
I watch through the window
As the violence unfurls
To see what the silence brings