Poetry

Does it stir you, 
a body bag? 
Journey of million years 
stops here, 
decoding the numbers. 
 
A humming bird 
inflight catches a dilemma 
before the sun sets on the 
whirring wings. 
The moon will never be the same. 
 
Hanging by a thread 
a suicide bomber memorializes 
the unhealing land. 
Who will cry 
when he is gone?