Bitter Cold Poem by M.J. Lemon

on the day when
some are carried back to memories of
stifling heat
or bitter cold
clothed by artillery and firearms
those who have no awareness
self or otherwise approach
the young man
seemingly hiding his arm
but in fact missing the limb
just to ask what happened and then
suddenly turning away to rejoin
their connection deep
passionate and intense
to images
many cartoon or cgi
sprawling or crawling across
screens yanked from pockets
and brought to life
by the twitch of a thumb
and turn of an earbud
but with but one arm
and one thumb
is there anything to turn
or is there only and
nothing but
the emptiness
left asking did we sever
the humanity