Love Story, Bosnia

Bosko and Admira
huddle near in no-man’s-land,
hand almost touching hand.
They do not move as other lovers.

Dead cellars of Sarajevo.
Birds beat on the empty wind
Playground silence broken
by the cackle of assault rifles.

The sweater his mother knitted for her
lies on the grave her mother cannot visit.

Helpless as words,
their few flowers wilt in the indifferent sun.

from Not Fade Away, Poems 1989-1994. Published by Bloodaxe Books 1994.