The Crossing
Smoke, smoke all over the sky. Chaos and confusion.
I become a man at the age of ten.
Desperate to protect my sisters and my Mother, I become a child soldier.
But I said to myself, wait a minute! Something is not right; I am not
wrecking my dreams and abolishing my 1, 2, 3s and A,B,C’s, which I
learned in my school under the tree.
I am going to cross the river. I thought I was looking for Mother,
not knowing that she had been taken away by the smoke.
Yo Mamma, where are you ??????
[Ed. note: Still all too apt in 2024, this voice of a boy from the war years of 1983-2005 is excerpted from a poem by Linda Peter Tartisio. Born in Wau, South Sudan, she lived as a refugee in Cairo. Since 2004 she has been, with her husband and children, an active member of the South Sudanese community in Roanoke, Virginia.]