Spatial Planes
I was part of
the crowd,
watched bombs fall from
dream state shoreside,
said nothing,
Saw veins of
concrete open,
spiling tar, oil fumes haze
like the anchorage of
ships capsized.
I lost heart
and will,
for much more of the screaming,
much more than the ranconteur’s
words could extend.
Approach in the
wedding dress aura,
beckon back to homefront comforts:
the forgetting of what happened walls
beyond.
Pausing, stand
across and shape,
we whirled in the April skies,
setting off storms;
Your voice
didn’t break the
cacophony, grim sights paces away;
It came like
balms from
crosstown market, kept in
mason jars, pulled out
When keeping
together got too
great for tender ears to
hear.
It forges a
hardness,
a bloodless unwelcome
to these nights.
