Traces of War

by Latorial Faison


they have been strewn all about me
my bed, my children, my home, my life
dusty pieces of denial that cling to us

as my children wander into our kitchen
for cool glasses of milk and into our arms
for comfort, the memories stick like grit

as we caress one another from head to toe
we still feel the fear of yesterdays filled with
so much unknown, uncertainty, unrest

there are too many sands of sadness, yet
we pick up the pieces every day to move
on from what carried us so far away

Copyright © May 2005 Latorial D. Faison