Hole in the roof of a ruin, somewhere in Portugal, looking out at the grey-blue sky. Hole in the Roof There is a hole here now Where the sky gets in And a chill wind whistles and bites Cracked tiles, pie wedges of plates, strewn A broken breakfast bar, unpeopled And a jagged glass bullseye, framed in A rectangle wrecked on the rubbled linoleum Family snapshot, frozen in fun, smiling up at The hole in the roof Inquisitive jackdaws perch precarious Bright blue bead eyes seeking out any sparkle

A Poem a Day, Day 172: Hole in the Roof. I wrote this in 2022, following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Works equally well for Gaza and Iran.

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