Lowther, Pat – “A Lullaby Not to Be Sung”

A Lullaby Not to Be Sung

Pat Lowther

Hush little baby,
don’t you cry.
Your home is safe
from the fiery sky.

Hush little baby,
snug and calm,
Eight thousand miles
from the nearest napalm.

Death comes misty through the trees,
Death comes blowing on the breeze,
Death comes pouring from the skies:
Gas in the lungs, flame in the eyes.

But all that’s
very far away.
Hush little baby,
run and play.

Electric prodder, water-soaked cloths,
Aren’t going to come near you, because
You’ve got the right shape and color to your face,
And you’re too young to think about the rest of the race.

Hush little baby,
you’ll stay free.
Long as you think
just the same as me.

(. .and your daddy
and your grampa
and your teacher
and your boss
  and your friendly
neighborhood
investigator. . )

Hush little baby,
close your eyes.
And you can live
while your brother dies.

Lowther, Pat. “A Lullaby Not to Be Sung.” A Lullaby Not to Be Sung and Other Poems. Vancouver: Western, 1968. N. pag.

Reprinted with permission from the Pat Lowther Estate.