IRAQ • by Beth Cato


she sees it in the glint of midday sun
hears echoes in the backfire of a car
the ping of an aluminum can
on asphalt

screams of children force her
to the floor, reaching for her belt
only to find lip balm, car keys
and a cough drop wrapper

“it’s good to be home,” she says

yet when the tang of dust strikes her
nostrils, when the man in a thick coat
waddles by, when white pills
rest like eggs on the nest of her tongue

she wonders


Beth Cato is an active member of the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America. She’s originally from Hanford, California, but now resides in Buckeye, Arizona, with her husband and son. Despite how often her husband’s co-workers beg, she will not quit writing to bake cookies all day long. Information regarding current projects can always be found at Sometimes those projects do include cookies.

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 1.6/5 (17 votes cast)
IRAQ • by Beth Cato, 1.6 out of 5 based on 17 ratings
Posted on February 22, 2013 in Literary, Poems
Bookmark and Share
  • Postcard Poems and Prose

    Simply haunting. You wrap a chilling story up inside this poem. Well done. Dave

  • Rohini Gupta

    Chilling indeed. Very well written.

« | Home | »