the red ball

in the wind's murmur
i heard the cry
of a child
searching for his
red ball.

the same wind
carried the wail
of a mother
dying, holding the red ball.

the wind spoke of leaders
raiding lands,
raining bombs
rhetoric in place
their righteous quest
veiling
the red ball.

the wind dies in my arms ,
and at my feet
lies the red ball.