Poem by Martha E. Snell

Atrophy in Madaya, Syria

The grandmother refuses morning meal today and
yesterday. Again tomorrow. The young ones
must have more in their bowls she says.
The bag of rice flops over, level
of bulgar falls. She ceases eating,
moves only in planned ways.
Two neighbors die, the ribs
of her grandchildren
are outlined
in flesh.

Kwashiorkor, I have to look it up, hear it
pronounced, until I remember pictures
of children from Biafra, Vietnam, the
Holocaust, this famine and that,
further back than cameras.
Images show flies on their
faces, swollen bellies,
listless people
who wasted,
vanished.
​
The moon in daytime
spirals across the sky,
little noticed.
​

Click on the file below to listen to Martha read her poem:

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Martha E. Snell's poetry appears in or is forthcoming from journals such as Ninth Letter, Moon City Review, Cutthroat, The Poet's Billow, and Streetlight Magazine. She received the Mary Jean Irion Prize from Chautauqua Literary Arts Friends in 2015 and was a finalist for the 2015 Bermuda Triangle Prize (The Poet's Billow) and the 2019 Patricia Dobler Poetry Award.  A professor emeritus at University of Virginia's Curry School of Education, she earned an MFA from Vermont College of Fine Arts in 2015 and has since completed two residencies at the Vermont Studio Center. She lives in Charlottesville, Virginia.

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