Depth is illusive
like a bad dream
unimaginable in scope
like the cornea of the eye
trying to fathom
the bottom of the ocean floor
excruciating in pain more than
any amputation of a body part
dislocated in a rubble
in the heartland of Port-au-Prince
here heat has no friend
no depth for imagination
scouring mind and body and soul
lips parched dry as dust
stomach empty from hunger
all deep in despair
too weak to search for survival
blind hope knows know depth
for survivors among the dead
and dying or the living dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem