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Hunger ––
I can’t hear the word
without my mind swinging to Gaza.
Though “hunger” is too tame––
its consonants, too close, too soft.
“Famine”–– word of long vowels, an open mouth.
Saying “starvation” requires a clench of the teeth.
I stare out the window at a safe bowl of trees and grass,
peas hanging from a vine, fresh water beading
along the fence line. Carrots burrowed under soft dirt.
It only feels like abundance if I can share it.
So much I can’t do.
My stomach, a pit not of
hunger but of grief.
White flowers open under gray sky.
No threat of anything falling but rain.
~

~~~~~
Copyright 2025 Emilie Lygren
Emilie Lygren‘s first collection of poems, What We Were Born For, was selected by the Young People’s Poet Laureate as the Poetry Foundation’s monthly book pick for February 2022. Emilie lives in San Rafael, California.
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Gaza: turned into a merciless death camp. A hellish abyss created by humans. A pit of grief, that place. Kids too weak to scream. We’ve seen this type of holocaust before. A fiery tale.
We in our backyards, wondering at how few birds we’ve noticed this year, but still the day lilies bloom, neighbor kids shout and laugh and play at being grownups, at least here. A fairy tale.
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Thanks for this, Jim. I sometimes marvel at my own life of safety, abundance, love, beauty and privilege while children elsewhere are being starved and murdered.
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Thank you, Michael and your Vox Populi service for illuminating the gloom. True, the illumination is intermittent, as is all art to the viewer/reader/listener. But from what you show us, we may carry forward the concerns, and do intermittent illuminating of our own. Our own lightning flashes of concern.
Emilie Lygren’s evocative poem of the differences we face from those of Gaza folks, is a great example. There’s a synergy at work here on Vox Populi Sphere. Her poem is a prime example.
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Thanks for seeing the synergy, Jim.
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Thank you for expressing what I feel. It is so needless, so tragic, so criminal. And so terribly, terribly deadly.
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