What will we do
to save our children
from the monsters that hide
not under beds
nor in the shadows on the wall
but prowl the streets
and wait for the yellow bus
and that one last lingering child
who dillydallies
jumping over puddles
skipping down the road
singing silly songs
she only learned today?
What will we do
to hold back mothers and fathers
from taking the law into their hands
when we ourselves have decided
to join them?
How do we turn this world
upside down and inside out again
and will it ever, ever end . . .
the sacrifices of the innocents among us?
What will we do
when the seas dry up
and there is no more salt
left for tears?
What will we do
when poets are no longer needed?
Joanne Cucinello 2009
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