Do The Voices

May 07, 1993|By Elizabeth Burgard

in your mind keep interjecting

no matter what they find you doing,

be it slipping a silky stream

of cream into your tea, or reading

Yeats' Innisfree, or rising to see dawn

spread an orange marmalade of luscious

color across your lawn, or standing

in the shower's needle-healing spray,

or watching the school bus children

play, or as you examine silken sorrows,

small problems that loom large against

your thin resources; do the voices gather

forces into one shaming thought:

BOSNIA

And does your hand cease to stir the tea,

does Innisfree flee from your image

of necessity, do the comforts of bed, shower

recede into a mockery of need, the laughter

the bus still your heart, does your spirit

sag against your backbone, do you recall

the hope when the Wall went down, the silence

of the past when the final solution polluted

what it is to be human, and yet do you resist

when your voices cease insisting, fall silent

or are silenced, do you ''forget'' for hours

days, the place where once again torture,

rape, death are past, present and future:

BOSNIA?

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