I was with the girl pulled from the rubble covered
in dust shaking aftermath of hurricane without wind
and she was with me in my bed when half-awake
my powerlessness failed to shelter me like a sheet
I was powerless to feel powerless afflicted by her
terror I reached to hug her and did for the rest
of the night hold her body to my body the teacher
said each of the tears she cried for her dead son
saved thousands of souls she’d never known
despite the terror of five hours under broken cement
without parent or sibling tears come between
her and her broken bed water streaming down stairs
at the ballpark waterfalls engorged after a week of rain
the sound of it to her was voices or nothing
the sound of bones inside her arms clattering
something to keep her awake in my bed with husband
and cat and dog (were we to let her) a safe puddle
to bathe in my daughter’s first bath with me a bucket
she turned over her head in a tub overlooking Kathmandu
rising in antiquity to meet us as I watched her
caring for herself grieving and yet happy
the dust ran off her tiny body as she stood
embraced by glass and light and dusted air
I wish for you a life small girl who shivers un-
controlled on my screen pulled from the acid
of this war developed like a photograph into
the obverse image on my lanai dead palm fronds
the better to catch the sound of early rain
No comments:
Post a Comment