Striped Pyjamas

Joan Phillips

They sit as close as two children can.
Their immature minds accepting everything;
excepting nothing
The fence erected by adults creates a chasm
too deep to close.
And yet they do
close it
one day
As he slips out of his school uniform
into the ragged, filthy, old striped pyjamas
his friend has brought for him.

He slips under the fence and walks around the compound
directed by despots of fury in black uniforms,
who salute with outstretched hand an arm
and wield machine guns.

Meekly trusting, he follows his friend to the shower block
along with the thousands
to whom man has continued to deal the losing hand.
And for one moment in time,
he could feel another’s woe.

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