Where will Children Play

Where will Children Play

Their names, carved in the keel

of the vessel in which they traveled.

Their margins, our boundaries pushed

to the side in view of what really matters

in our fallible, sensitive lives, seek

a response from the unknown. 

Position yourselves next to the mystery

of their music. Is child play the glimmer

that does not bond to anything,

a mirror of water, the closed curtain

in the school of human affections?

Gunshot signals the rescue,

yet you deny them entry.

A growing weakness reminds me

that there is no beginning or end in the life

of your phosphoric limbo, Mr. President.