Page 27 - Poems
P. 27
say later (after a day spent with more survivors, sharing
sorrow and trauma and tears, many tales of dread and
loss, but weirdly, you add, also fine warmth & care),
“Once you understand what is actually happening,
each impact seems to impale the spine. Unspeak-
able, the violence that remains in the body. What
kills us is immobility.” I think of your feet, your
dancer’s feet that could move before thought;
feet that outpaced – if so fleetingly, this day,
even fearfully – death’s leaden onslaught;
feet more graceful, more heroic than
every single deity I have not sought
since turning adult and reverently
agnostic.
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