Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Hostage (For Kayla)

I
Among seventeen anxious months,
The only constant thought
Was of the life of the hostage.

II
We are of one reflection,
Like the prisoner
For which there is proof of life.

III
The hostage whirled in peaceful endeavors.
It was a small part of the pantomime.

IV
Sand and stone
Are one.
Sand and stone and she
Are one.

V
We do not know which to believe,
The justice of cause
Or the justice of righteousness,
The hostage weeping
Or just surviving.

VI
Crystals of sand filled the guest’s mirror
With imitative hospitality.
The shadow of the hostage
Adrift, alive or dead.
The answer
Traced in the shadow
An unfortunate certainty.

VII
O barbaric men of insanity,
Why do you imagine futile airstrikes?
Do you not see how the hostage
Suffers at the mercy
Of a woman with rigid virtue?

VIII
We know noble undertakings
And silent, unfathomable horrors.
But we know, too,
That the hostage is remembered
In what we know.

IX
When the hostage reappeared,
She blessed our futile peace
With hope.

X
At the sight of hostages
Kneeling in sand
Even the wailing mourners
Would demand peace?

XI
She rode through Aleppo
To a bus.
After she played with the children
And painted
The shadows of reality
For future hostages.

XII
The sky is blue.
The hostage must be dead.

XIII
It was night all day.
It was morning
And it was morning again.
The hostage will
Be remembered well.