The photo is from 1978. My son, his truck. Behind him, my truck.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Bombland (Dream Two)

Saturday, May 28, 1983

Sometimes the monsters aren't imaginary.  Nineteen years before the mandap, on a Memorial Day weekend, this happened:


She of four years, nine months,
wide eyes, fragile bones,
wakes screaming, runs through
the dark house.  I catch her.
She says, "I can't stop thinking about bombs."
I hold her.  Hot flesh.  Rabbit pulse.
"I just couldn't stop thinking."

We share a lap, a cuddle, a cup
of hot chocolate.  She says,
"They scare  me.
You know where they come from? 
They come from Bombland
I hope they always stay  there.  I
hate the people who make bombs."

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