On Mothers [Athens 2018 daily poem series #4]

I

Look
she says
here are the pictures.

We are on the terrace.

I see
a torrent of mud
and destroyed belongings.

We lost everything
her face explains.

II

Look
she cries
my son is lost!

We are on the beach.

I cannot see
the boy; instead
I watch her frantic face.

The fear
contorts her guts.

III

Look
the mothers
bearing pain.

We are on the world.

I feel and cannot feel
the looming void
the noose of hope.

The boy is found.
The flood subsides.