A POEM FOR TODAY

I used to like sheepherder coffee,
a cup of grounds in my old enameled pot,
then three cups of water and a fire. . .

Some days, it was nearly all I got.
I was happy with my dog,
and cases of books in my funky truck. . .

But when I think of that posture now,
I can't help but think
of Palestinians huddled in their ruins,

the Afghan shepherd with his bleating goats,
the widow weeping, sending off her sons,
the Tibetan monk who can't go home.

- Sam Hamill, Poets Against the War