TO LIVE

To live through
shadows of war
being straw men
at the edge
of Hiroshima
or Dachau
to sense
a dark warning
in the sky
or burning smoke
of your own death's
departure
in a slow tar
lingering smell of flesh
burning in strange
fields covering
a sickly space
growing pale
of the passing time
when no one
speaks,touches or looks
in a slip of light
at the next siren's
whistle in black lungs
of the wind sounding
from all our days.