Behind The Light Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Weak coffee to stay awake in the gloom of a
darkened office, blinds drawn against Africa's
sun burning with incandescence destroying life,
head compressed, pressure forcing down every
thought - and a black burka skirt in the freezer

As protection against the flames burning from
the pavements and streets, a spray can and a
frozen bottle of water to wet my head when dis-
comfort becomes too much; my brain has been
destroyed to the point that I have no capacity

To retain positive feelings which sink as soon as
I tasted their joy and elation - leaving me with the
the bitter taste of hopelessness and fatigue - this
is no life, it's merely a sad existence and only the
challenge of trying to survive the murderous march

Later in the day, gives a sense of purpose to this
quiet struggle against the overpowering blackness
which reigns on the inside behind the light…