Desperation writ upon each brow
as soon their deaths arrived.
Some sought a reprieve via
escape or fight; but it was short-lived.
Along came the clean-up crew,
who laboured silently. They quickly
cleaned up the bloody mess,
making ready for the next set.
And each new bullet was slotted
quickly into chamber; the sound
of military voices resounded only
in that courtyard all morning.
But afternoon, it was done.
And they left, their mission done.
In open pits, their bodies stacked
randomly the scavengers already
were arriving; the survivors a little
later. The wailing and crying began
soon enough, and early evening
came filled with cicadas and weeping.
Those who could removed their
loved ones, broken dead weights
carried slowly and finally. Those
lucky scavengers, those lucky
lucky few, enjoyed their lavish
meals where they could. Those
who came too late were only
left the blood and remains.
And night grew long as
the shadows addressed the
village of its chosen fate
as execution site. And every
one left buried those of
the wedding party from
the morning’s bright start.
The tears were their only words
that silent long evening’s task.
© 2017 L. Tafa