Indetermindable
moments between the vibrating
phone, the blaring alert,
the siren that might--
might not--sound
I want to go,
my daughter whines--
I want to go down. I gulp down
the still-dewed air, breathe
in jasmine like I'm drowning.
It's too far, she scrambles towards the steps.
I'm scared.
Hunker underground. Between concrete slabs.
My dove, in the crevice of stone
the shelter of the step--
She says, I always dream
we keep sleeping
And then the missile hits.
I dream I am buried alive
in the endless expanse
before the All Clear.
No comments:
Post a Comment