Day 450

(for Dr Hussam Abu Safiya)

 
What his thoughts were
when the soldiers captured him
we don’t know, we may
never know.  What we can assume
is that they were for his patients.
The hospital had been bombed
for weeks:  one by one,
departments reduced to ruins.
Pediatrics.  ICU.   He
stayed.  He stayed, despite
their murdering his child.
He stayed despite his own wounds,
swearing to help his patients, to remain
as long as there was one who
needed him. Pleaded
with the world not to look away.
To send medicine, gauze.  On 
the last day they took him
along with the others, stripped
him naked, beat him
with electrical wire 
for his knowledge, 
his integrity, his resistance.  Have they
murdered him yet? Are they
torturing him instead, smirking
at his pain while they decide
whether to kill him?
Trying to make him writhe?
If they throw his body
wherever they may throw it
do they really believe
they can dispose of
his voice?  His compassion?