No Resurrection Poem by Owain Glyn

The boiling Sun sends searing rays to scorch the arid earth
Dust Devils dance in pantomime for everything they're worth.
A Mother, bent and haggard, beats her fists upon the ground
Today, as every other day, no reward is found.
The child strapped tightly to her back
Is much too weak to cry
The Mother knows, instinctively
Today her child will die.
She'll feed it to this self-same earth
To give it some protection
But she knows within her breaking heart
There'll be no resurrection.
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