After the War
The houses remained empty
windows firmly shut
always longing for a hand’s quiver
inside, a widow always lamented
her dead husband or
a mother for her son and
we made toys out of wire
left by the enemies
threads meant for ideal nooses
and we laughed
we always laughed like
the innocent evening breeze
that galloped over the shore
for our unknown future
lurking ahead that
with optimism we anticipated
a better world to mould
fear couldn’t enter our hearts
the fields remained unsown
the company that sold the seed
underwrote the villagers’ lives
along with the quality of coffins
Libros Libertad 