Sheikh Radwan

An exhausted Cattle Dog limped across the
Harrowing zone of pitiless war, its roan coat
Ashen, a hind leg broken, which he carried
Like an insensate doll of careworn sighs. Over

Scorched and ravaged lands, seven days and
Seven nights roaming, unquenchable was the
Yearning for the only home he’d ever known;
Seven were the hellscapes that burned into the

Brain – inviolable honor of which no fire could taint –
Through the depths of pandemonium, the battered
Shield still glistening – undaunted eyes that shunned
Surrender. A sudden recognition of Al-Naser, the hot

Blood racing, the cocoon beckoning as it drew him
Onward towards the light; just one final clearing
And then love would be bestowed, eyes would meet
Eyes, calling with sweet love calling: until Hell itself

Burned black doom on all the world. His family lay
Silent, slain and lifeless on the ghastly gelid ground,
Nightmarish naked forms that clove the boundless
Heart, hideous scars from which oozed the wicked

Water, marks that rent the primal sun – that pierced
The soul of a windswept sorrow. He tried to rouse
Them as any dutiful canine would – but they were
Lost – lost unto the shadow from which the voiceless

Could not fly. There was grandfather, with a knitted
Expression on his brow, as if he was about to expound
On how one could make music with words; there was
Mother clutching the holy book she so revered; there

Was Imran, always full of joy and laughter; and there
Was little Aliya, so innocent and gentle, who would
Follow him like a puppy – she too lay martyred. The
Pavement stained with their once gracious blood, a tide

That unmoored the world of azure dream; unbearable
Was the stillness, the hovering of the owl that seemed
To mock his whimpering cries. And above that blackened
Entrance to their once hallowed hearth, a chilling six-sided

Star bore down upon him, a sign that stirred an echo once
Cerulean, but which screamed of inhuman hate and ruthless
Demonic power. Beasts devouring lambs, unchecked upon the
Main: do hounds slaughter hounds in the weeping of the rain?

David Penner’s articles on politics and health care have appeared in Dissident Voice, CounterPunch, Global Research, The Saker blog, OffGuardian and KevinMD; while his poetry can be found at Dissident Voice, Mad in America, and redtailedhawk.substack.com. Also a photographer, he is the author of three books of portraiture: Faces of The New Economy, Faces of Manhattan Island, and Manhattan Pairs. He can be reached at 321davidadam@gmail.com. Read other articles by David.