Copyright © 2002 Benjamin A. Shelton
Blood across the river runs,
Downward toward the mouth of the hungry sea,
Only to disappear into the depths.
No one will notice,
For as thin as water it is.
The fishes of the sea shall not care from whence it came,
Nor know of its presence will they,
For like the silt and the rain it comes and goes.
Thin as water is this blood,
Spilling into the river and swallowed by the sea.
The grasses and the trees will know well of its day.
Colored red and matted to the ground,
This grass is green no more.
Soiled, too, is the ground,
Darkened by the blood.
Whosoever died today,
Their face without a name,
And blood from grass to river to sea,
Hasn’t the heart to care.
For no longer does it beat.