in the shadow of the known world

 
and the bones are all
that's left
three years later
 
the side of a hill in a
pleasant stretch of countryside
 
a highway that leads to an
empty house
somewhere in pennsylvania
 
the secret door in the basement
and the windowless rooms
beyond
 
the memory of women
chained to beds
 
the idea of america as
something bigger than yourself
 
a child starving to death
within walking distance of
a grocery store
 
my son's tiny hand
holding mine
 
the hope that one of us
is leading the other