Here’s one of a Syrian child
who’s never seen a photo
of a mountain meadow.

Here’s one of an Afghani goat-herder
bombed to the spirit world
while addictions for poppies
for heroin go unchecked.
 
This one’s not developing properly
but it’s of a child in Iraq
born with deformities
because of toxic weapons
because of an addiction to oil.
 
This one’s sharp as can be
of a child in Yemen
bombed to the spirit world
by a war of terror.
 
And this one is just the negative
so the Blacks look White
and the Whites Black
so as to see the world through the other’s eyes
of a child in Flint, Michigan
learning about nutrition
because of lead-pipes
because of the color-blind mind
that doesn’t love colors.
 
This is of the worker in Venezuela
because The Powers That Do
want to overthrow yet another ‘foreign’ country
want their chaosocracy
throughout this benign world.
 
And this one of a Native grandmother,
arrested for praying.
 
Back in the day, a photograph was
a gift like magic, an image pulled from the air,
often a treasure of family and friends gathering
at significant or playful moments, the thing
some say they would rescue first –
of all thing possessions –
because of the connection to loved ones gone.
 
Now we must consider
that before a photo can even be taken
there must be a person to be photographed.