retreat house and monastery
were also destroyed
such simple words
in a byline
from an old paper
a byline
you know
just something of little interest
to the general public
but it was on that hillside
that i met
father bicycle
with his cane
waving in the air
as if parting the red sea
proclaiming his desire
to travel once more
to his beloved
liberia
and cycle its paths once more
though cycling now
would not be possible
just walking with a cane
was a challenge
yet he did return
and came back
to his barren cloister
where he died
it was his
home then
where his memories were stored
after years of service
to humanity
his
home
reduced to ashes
college students
a bonfire party
and a lifetime of work
and memories
smoldering in the rubble
of a good time
i still cannot release my anger
it rages within me
and i feel ashamed
for i know
he stands
just above the horizon
and prays for them
in his
home