ANOTHER WOMAN DIED TODAY

Today another woman died
And not on a foreign field
And not with a rifle strapped to her back
And not with a large defense of tanks
Rumbling and rolling behind her.
She died without CNN covering her war.
She died without talk of intelligent bombs
And strategic targets
The target was simply her face, her back,
Her pregnant belly.

The target was her precious flesh
That was once composed like music
In her mother's body and sung
In the anthem of birth.
The target was this life
That had lived it's own dear wildness,
Had been loved and not loved,
Had danced and not danced.
A life like yours and mine
That had stumbled up
From a beginning
And had learned to walk,
And had learned to read,
And had learned to sing.

Another woman died today.
Not far from where you live
Just there, next door where the tall light
Falls across the pavement.
Just there, a few steps away
Where you've often heard shouting,
Another woman died today.

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