I key in the headline Dozens dead after boat capsizes. Phones ring, and laptops chatter with stories from around the world. Adrenaline pumps through my body like a tidal wave.
fading tracks
on an Aegean shore
at twilight
which of them belong to those
who drowned in cold water
I glance at the oversized clock on the rear wall of the newsroom. Its hands march closer and closer toward the deadline. And the refugee story waits to be replaced . . . with the latest news from the front lines of yet another war-torn country.
