An image from the rice queue in Izmir .... the boy with the war in his eyes
For the past few weeks we have all seen the plight of those whose lives are separated from ours by accidents of birth
I have been trying to make sense of the last three weeks on the road but I am struggling. There are rare occasions when the formal constraints of journalism feel inadequate to convey the range and depth of human experience, the sense of the epic which radiates from certain moments in our history. The good editor has indulged me so I have set down in free verse the images and thoughts that will not leave me. Perhaps they will add up to some kind of sense, perhaps not. Unusual but there you go.
I saw him
in the rice queue at Izmir