"After" by Martha Collins

After
by Martha Collins

After the scattering, after the night of shattered
glass, broken stones, scrawls, marked
houses, chalked walls, after the counter-
threats, shouts, shots against the scattered
unhoused stones, after the bombs from over
the ocean, the desert, after oil has mixed
with blood, after the blossoming desert is bombed
to sand and risen again to blossom, though this
is more than the story tells, the story, simply
begun with the scattering, ends with the gathering
in again from distant cities, countries, corners,
basements, caves where children were hidden, graves
whose bones were moved to be burned, ashes that would
not burn, from earth, from air, the people will come
together, they will ride in carts and trains
and cars, they will walk and run, and this
is the story, the people will cross the oceans,
they will cross the rivers on bridges made
of paper, blank and inked and printed and painted
paper bridges will bring them together, over
the waters the borders the wars will be over, under
the paper bridges that bridge the most the best we can.