The Boy in the Striped Coat

When I was little I’d pretend the cartoon characters I loved 
lived in the television cabinet in our living room, 

my brother adjusting the rabbit ears,
too much snow, he’d say. 

Today on the news there’s an image so sharp it’s like looking
	into the bottom of a clear, cold lake—

a boy walks alone across the border into Medyka, sobbing. 

His blue and green striped coat, his mittens, a grey cap, 
	small boots buckled by someone who wanted him far from bombs. 

O cyber-god, with your endless tentacles, you think you run the world, 
but you’re powerless to keep children safe.
	 
I walk the dog, do the dishes, pick up a magazine.
The stuffed animal he carries hangs in a plastic bag.






Kathleen Goldblatt (she/her,) is the author of Our Ghosts Wait Patiently (Finishing Line Press). She feels lucky to live in Rhode Island, the Ocean State, where she reflects on poetry during walks with her dog, Archie, who never tires of listening. She is a social worker and Jungian psychoanalyst.