grey stony ground
scorched scattered toys
ripped weeds through cracks
the children play
moon appears in darkened skies
blinding light
waif like girl smiling
waving against wire
face cupped dirty hands
bleeding more
arrive crusty blood
and excrement
what’s your name?
draw something for me
trickled tears on paper
brown eyes blank
what’s your name?
369-40 on file
approaching feet hasten
a mother screams
—
Mary Chydiriotis is a social worker and writer living in Melbourne. Her poems have been published in journals and anthologies both locally and overseas, including Social Alternatives, Right Now, Garfield Lake Review, Offset, Short and Twisted and Tincture. Mary has worked with migrants and refugees in the community sector for fifteen years.
Feature image: Karen Eliot/Flickr
