Liberation Iraq
© Suzanne Bosworth


He is with his dad. Sitting close for comfort,
rocking quietly. Holding his hand.
He is five. Or six.
A grubby kid squatting in dust.
Rocking and rocking.

Flies circle and crawl
on wet wounds
and lifeless eyes.

Numbed by being liberated
from his dad
the kid gazes at nothing.
He just gazes at nothing.