Marker

Hard to say now where a seam in the soil
marked the place where a row of villagers

with their arms tied behind their backs
slumped to the ground after the order

to fire. Someone has engraved a plaque
to show where something was raised

from rubble— But dark wounds petal
every patch of earth under stone

and gravel. Someone has pledged
a troth or signed his name in blood

at the base of a monument. Bird wing
or flag flutter? It’s hard to tell

when shadows lengthen and currents
darken: so many faces in the river.

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.