under the bridge from the sun

for those caught in the mess outside Mina.

I awoke to a hundred dead bodies on my bedroom floor
dined alone with six hundred more
and came home to a headline that whispered how many bedsheets had been used to hide the ground they now sleep upon. 

To comprehend scale would be to settle on a figure I’m accustomed to,
but homework never covered these topics,
answers never printed,
they couldn’t be copied.
So I learn from the second minute after my alarm through to troubled sleep at the end of the tunnel, and I will dream of that son above his father under the bridge from the sun and hope his goodbyes are heard by someone who can help.