The Eyes of Omayra Sánchez Garzón

Slowly, oh so very slowly, the camera moves in closer to your face. 

I remember you, Omayra,

Looking up calmly.

Your simple beauty seemed to be holding you  

Above the mud from the volcano, 

But you were held down too. 

You could not escape.

They could not cut you free.

They said that 

Underneath the water, the brick doorway of your house

Held you tight and beneath that

Your aunt, drowned, held your legs in her death grip.

Your eyes talked about the 13 years of life you knew.

There seemed a steady knowledge in your gaze.

Afterwards, the papers said you showed

An understanding that death was inevitable. 

And that was okay.

For 60 hours you survived, they said.

They said your mind slipped first into delirium.

Then, they said oh so very slowly you slipped quietly away, 

And you were gone.

But I remember you, Omayra, I remember you.

And I remember your eyes.

*Picture: Frank Fournier