A shred of newspaper lies on the table. A common statistic.
The people are divided into men and women. There are
Twenty million women.
Nature doesn’t recognize divisions. A shadow grows
Between the two worlds, falling from the unknown soldier’s grave,
Burning the faded lettering –
Twenty million.
They were meant for one another. He was buried.
She remained.
The laments must have been horrible when twenty million
Wept by the grave.
Light loose skirts turn there in the sun.
Here, in this dark corner, twenty million lean heads on hands
Grasping mourning handkerchieves.
There the world’s glare is absorbed by newly opened eyes.
Here twenty million speak to unknown infants and bemoan
And unborn love.
They’re testing the atom somewhere. A shred of newspaper
Lies on the table.
It’s not necessary to say anything.
The paper counts out the dead –
Twenty million.
(Judita Vaiciunaite)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Man Poems, World Poems, Light Poems, Nature Poems, Woman Poems, People Poems, Matter Poems, Statistics PoemsBased on Keywords: lettering