Chris McDonnell: No Room at the Inn

No room at the inn


plenty of straw. And contented stock.

A woman in blue a man leaning on a staff,

well-lit, neat and tidy

with a baby wrapped in white.




Scattered rocks, twisted iron

A man in a sweatshirt and 

A woman in a shawl watch over an infant

Wrapped in a keffiyeh amid dust of plaster

And hanging drapes, the aftermath of attack

This troubled, turbulent year.

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