Cry Shame

Stones outlast weather,
horses sleep standing up,
flies never bother pigs—
how can I endure the tears
of a woman whose husband died
in a jungle?
I have my own wailing wall
to weep against for the many
murders I have planned, and
what sleep is there for any of us
when our hearts cry shame?
I too have sent planes, bombs, poison
to burn and rape the country
of brotherhood, and who can tell me
what to say when my own anger
calls me to account.