The Smallest Victim


Hipochryfa’s hankie
Trampled in the mud.
But she can’t move on
Through the ever-flowing present
Spewed into a full-stop
By the roaring flood.
And they all told her,
Stop living in the “now” –
Move on, somewhere, somehow …
All your tomorrows
Are, were, always will be
All around you
Coming to get you
Past engorged by present
Your forever future
       clinging there
Voices shouting “Now! Now! Now!”
In the vice of Time.

About the Poem

It’s about imagining the death of a young child swept away by the flood in Derna, Libya, in the context of her short life, the attitudes of those around her, and the philosophical enigma of time itself.

About the Author

Edwin Heath is a typical unpublished author, of poetry, short stories, and unfinished novels. Poems often come into his head just after he has woken up when his subconscious mind is still partially active!

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