| Ghazal ó seventh plea for the life of Van Nguyen
Buoyed by rain in the volatile forest, itís our loss.
Forget the risk of fire and take your rest? Itís our loss.
Children in my daughterís class will celebrate a birthday.
All consequences as they feather their nest. Itís our loss.
She wants to go but feels she shouldnít. Itís her conscience.
Whatever she does weíll support her. A test? Itís our loss.
On the coastal plane it was raining less ó people barely noticed.
Though noticing it wasnít as hot, felt blessed. Itís our loss.
I watched the ornamental fish swim golden in soda-blue water.
Surfacing as one, I heard their request. Itís our loss.
Youíd stand alone, John, and make your statement?
All of us lose a fragment. The State confessed? Itís our loss.