Grasping Air
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This poem was written after the earthquake in Haiti when a video crew was captured on film taking pictures of a hand waving from beneath the rubble. They chose to take a picture instead of grab a shovel in an attempt to save him.
As the dust settles
in our hearts
hands are left reaching,
grasping, pleading
from the concrete tombs
that enclose our lives.
We are pressed down
by the burdens of living,
unable to heal our
wounded souls.
We are losing our battle…
hoping, praying,
for someone, somewhere
to free us from the rubble
of ourselves.
Copyright © Rachel Kovacs | Year Posted 2013
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