The memory of what was
The child.
The innocence.
The laughter.
The black cloud of fear.
Witness and subject of
His dark internal hatred.
Fear, an earthquake
Wrenching at her soul.
A place to go inside her head
And hope to get her through.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Short, pithy lines transcribing a complex dark reality, like a 'join the dots'. Powerful. Jx.