dissonance

my problems now, so trivial:

when they leave the screen door open

welcoming summer's heat

into my air-conditioned home,

and flies that land and vomit

on our fruit bowl

filled with nourishing foods

how unfortunate!

the heat, the flies, the spoiled food.

i trip over shoes in the doorway

dirt and grass clippings gather in the corners

i must mop, yet again!

this woman's work.

mop, sweep, diaper, comfort, cry.

these never-ending, silent expectations

could they ever understand?

we know them as numbers

but she knew them by their names

carefully chosen as she swept a hand over her swollen belly

as knees that dimpled and shook with a first step

as the sweet faces that lit up when offered their favorite food

as deep, brown eyes that cried

liquid and endless

when they fell and scraped an elbow

as hands that held hers

soft and plump and trusting

now they lie in rubble and dust

blood and glass

small, broken bodies

taken for the sake of 

politics and religion 

freedom and control

they are the sacrifices

but she was never offering

this is the dissonance:

sometimes i cry because the living room is a mess

and sometimes i cry because another woman's children are dead