The Anonymity Of War by Dorothy Snelson


She never sees the hand that guided it

She only hears the whining noise

She only feels the fear

She only smells the burning

She only tastes the bitter, acrid smoke

She only touches the heaps of rubble

Yet these are not just the  remains of houses, streets

Men , women, children

They spell  the loss of a community

Gone in a blinding flash

Leaving her  numb

And inside she screams at the futility of it all.