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 Morning in Mostar For Erna Susic In a pasture of trampled summer grass, Near a barn used for hiding weapons in the old days, Two young bulls rear back in the moonlight. Although they have no horns yet, the clash Shakes the stars
in a watering troughLike heavy aircraft passing. Then for practice,
A hawk soars from a stag pine crown and circles.The calves will turn and drink as the bird Fades. So early, the skyıs first skrim of light Seems to be rising on a dress rehearsal: For the day to come, for the lead that will flow Across the twice
demolished bridge,While fire flings itself aloft And tiny coffins bloom behind the hay ricks. For make no mistake, this Balkan sun Is everybodyıs ally. Too faint at first to take up Sides in a dark valley, but it will show Its real colors later, proving an equal friend
perhaps before breakfast,To the hand on the hilt and the eye in the crosshairs Of every knife and rifle in the country.
–Michael Majid Wolfe |