Clean Water

With our water so clean,
It’s easy to wash hands,
And try not to see
Beyond safe confines,
For we might just choke
On tear gas and smoke.
With our water so clear,
We can't begin to hear
That little girl crying,
Her brother and mother dying,
Or those men with metal sticks,
Who take all the risks,
Fighting their very rescuers,
Lighting up even their sewers,
In grief for wives' lives lost,
To an indifferent frost.
All these screams and shouts
Go unheard in whitewashed clouds.
Make more calm phone calls,
Behind thicker walls.

With our water so cold,
Our clean laundry to fold,
We can’t feel the boy’s tears,
Or touch his father’s fears.
Is it really so far away,
Or just a trick we play?
We always have more bills to pay.
There’s more water to buy,
And nothing to do, but sigh.
Maybe one day,
We'll ask why
We couldn't afford to pay
For a sad girl to stay
Alive and unafraid.
We don't need clean hands, today.

(Author's Note: I would like to thank Lindsay-George-Hall for his contribution to the editing of this poem. He is a great writer, who deserves your careful attentions, especially to his poems "The Knight" and "Homer", which are both worthwhile reads).