The One-way Window

And the river’s blood drained away
The sun...too weak to rise
Some of us gave up
The rest stared away to the empty distance
With dry mouths
...tearless eyes
...cold faces

Children?
there are none
Too many mature eyes,
even the infant ones

My way, one of them looked
Through the one-way window
With eyes
forgotten by the sands of time
Can he see me?

“Help” he doesn’t say it
‘Doesn’t know what it means
Is it a shirt?
A can of beans?
A shoulder on which he leans?
…Or is it a flyer?
Maybe a hawk...
Roaring away
to the empty distance