A glow of orange floods each room
To banish all life’s doom and gloom
The sun’s rays bouncing off the cots
If they are filled or they are not.
The morning stirs, the day begins
We cannot know who’ll lose, who wins,
The halls are quiet like a mouse
There are few sounds about the house.
I hear tip-toes along the hall
A squeaky wheel, a pregnant stall
The silence drowns my every thought
Too sad this spot where some are brought !
Claire V. Bogdanos 