by Ethel Mortenson Davis
We found her
in the mountains
near a rushing stream
carved out of white marble,
a sign of purity.
Under her whiteness
was written these words,
“…she hears the cries of the world.”
Last night
a Syrian boy and girl
lay dead under rubble,
not much older than six or seven
…cries in the world.
Heart breaking…. Beautifully written, Ethel.
Makes me want to cry……………..beautiful, Ethel.
So much to cry over, Ethel. So much.