Where are the poets when you need them?
Where are the wordsmiths that cry out
across the space-time continuum
from the future
to the present
in the market square
in the town halls
outside places of worship
in the middle of the street?
What will they say of the earth as it stands right now?
Will they weep with us?
Bury our dead with us?
Lift us up with their words?
Using the word of God to reanimate us
while dividing soul from spirit?
Will they lighten our burden?
Will they give us hope wrapped in sonnets and rhymes?
Will they?
Will they?
©Vivian Zems
30 Days of Haiku in Honour of National Poetry Month 2020
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