Hodeidah. It has an odd resonance,
the sound. Quite close, I think, to day-do-dah.
Add another ‘day’, and, in this instance,
Camptown Races minstrel song, not that far.
Hodeidah. Brings to mind, too, the old song
Zipedeedodah. Or, in deep south drawl
“how do dhere?”, as pronounce the spelling wrong.
But these are sillinesses, I recall,
because Hodeidah a port in Yemen,
where aid, to that stricken country, arrives.
Without it, consequence, widespread famine,
with deaths, suffering and desperate cries.
Now it’s attacked. Brutal rulers don’t care.
Are we human? Do we hear? ‘Who’s out there?’