by Shantha Bunyan
When I first loved you the sky was falling
protesters in the street, signs aloft
bombs dropping, people dying, far away
and we held each other, believing we could all be free.
When I last loved you, the sky was falling
protesters in the street, signs aloft
knees dropping, people dying, so close
too close.
that knee was a bomb dropped on your throat
stopping your breath, your life.
Now, though I love you, I cannot hold you.
tear gas didn't begin my weeping
but the tears will not stop now.
and I worry that your death, one of so many
will be missed among the pieces of fallen sky.
But the bombs burst in our hearts now
the fire is lit.
your memory burns, ignites.
this time, change will come.
we will rebuild the sky.
Previously published in DoveTales, An International Journal of the Arts: Resistance, Published by Writing for Peace.
About the Author
Shantha J. Bunyan, a queer person of color, is a scuba dive master currently land-locked by circumstance in her native Colorado. Inspired to travel in part by her father, an Indian immigrant, she was able to spend majority of the last six years living abroad, visiting over 35 countries and experiencing the world both above and below the surface. Her poetry appears in What Rough Beast, "Put into Words, My Love" a Petite Pomme, by Pomme Journal, The Silent World in Her Vase, and 140Max Magazine. Some of her travel adventures can be found at RandomPiecesofPeace.com.
