Documentary
Today I saw a city burning on TV.
Someone distant and ghostlike
Walked through the rubble,
And then the camera made a sweep
Of the fiery sky and the clouds.
Alone, stepping carefully,
His head bowed so low — he didn’t have a head —
While searching for something
Of no interest to the camera
Which wanted us to admire the sky
With its towers of black smoke,
And the accompanying commentary,
Words about “our tragic age.”
Which I didn’t hear — watching him
Stop and bend over
Just as he vanished from view.
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