Will There Be School This Morning, poetry by Rex Carey Arrasmith at Spillwords.com
Yves Alarie

Will There Be School This Morning?

Will There Be School This Morning?

written by: Rex Carey Arrasmith



While I brush my teeth before bed it occurs
to me that twelve hours away some kid in the
Ukraine wakes and does the same.
Will there be school this morning?

Snug and peaceful in my bed I wonder about
that kid.
Did he find sleep hunkered under his bed,
or on the floor in a subway shelter?
Could he find peace with Russian rockets
shaking foundations and
children wailing?
Were there whispered words of hope
from Ukrainian mothers?
Was your Ukrainian father
huddled outside in the cold
with an awkward grip on an
ugly gun waiting to protect
his family, defend his country?

Maybe there are plans for escape. That kid
worries about his dog, his fish, his friends.
What must he think as his mother sews his
name and blood type onto his clothes.
He wonders why would Brother Putin want
to destroy his neighbors? Their neighborhood?
They have done nothing. They are innocent.

How can I dream of a peaceful world knowing
there is no peace for that frightened kid not
dreaming of dinosaurs?

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