Human

Feet buried in prickly sand, he sat.
Waters of the sea stared back at him.
They were his oldest friend,
his warm comfort of familiarity.
Until one day came the floods,
wrecking his house to a pile of rubble,
tearing apart his family.
He returned of course, to meet again;
Grey net held in a tight clasp.
Being a fisherman was all he knew.
It was all he was.

Books with thick spine
and emptied refills.
For the longest time,
her grades were how
she measured herself.
Today, she can’t help
but laugh at herself.

She looked up earnestly
at the countless stars twinkling above.
This new year she longed
to wish her father first.
‘Martyred’ is the word they used.
An eight year old might not have known
what sense to make of it.
And yet,
as the tricolor wrapped coffin was lowered,
the girl stood in front,
tears rolling down soft cheeks,
at attention, hands folded in a stiff salute.

Cackling in merry,
the baby held his finger,
with two delicate hands.
What more could I ask for
he thought.
‘He’ is a refugee in a country
and a culture alien to him.

Drinks, partying , large group of friends,
college, same old shit.
Weary he put on his jacket and left.
Walking alone in the chiding cold
of the night, he sighed.
Fireworks in the sky announced a new year.
Under the street light , he stood.

What do all these people have in common?
They are human.
We are human.