Rizwan Saleem writes

Blankets

Blankets,

Multi colored, used blankets

That’s what they brought them in

Wrapped and ensconced

Almost as if they were asleep

In a way they were weren’t they?

Small bundles, medium size bundles

And some large ones too

All shapes and all colors

Never knew they could come in such varieties

Now they placed these on the ground

And the mob gathered, rushed to them

As if it contained treasures

Well almost, they were treasures

Or at least used to be

The reactions were different when the folds were opened

Stunned silence, wails and sobs

And of course the obligatory calls to almighty

(Ignored)

The dusty roads threw up dust, which heralded the coming

Of another vehicle bearing gifts

And those of us standing empty handed and in wait

Knew, that very soon we’d be on the receiving end.

Wails, mourns, tears, blankets!

So very useful indeed

So there were two pick ups

And they came to a screeching halt

Just before the gathered crowd,

It had hardly stopped when some immediately reached into the rear

And then bundles in blankets, lots of them

For all of us!

Saw a turquoise blue one this time

Very artsy with embroidery

Wondering if mine was wrapped in it

Took steps towards the truck 

And the guy standing in the rear was hollering

To come quickly as if he was distributing free food or some boon

Feet seemed stuck to the ground as if tied to ball and chain

But had to get there, someone was waiting

If to find solace in the craziest of things

It was the blue one after all

And in it was folded something else too, an answer 

A whole life of prayer and obedience

And one day

You’ll be made to receive the body of your child

From the back of a rusty pickup truck

Wrapped in a turquoise embroidered blanket 

[Last year in August, a bus carrying school children in Yemen was hit by a missile mistaking them for rebels. This poem is about its aftermath.] 

--Saul Martinez