Beyond shattered glass,
blood-spattered ash,
and fallen limbs -
Through hateful haze
after fearsome fires -
Still in a daze, a
space of numbness -
between damning curses
and blessing hymns -
is where we must race,
wheel, or crawl -
is where we must travel
alone and together
beyond shattered glass.
I'll look for your face.
Written for Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft—The Unfathomable— at dVerse Poets. The host this week is Anna Elizabeth Graham, whose prompt post is a thoughtful essay on the poetry of disaster.
Want to give a shout out to the G-Man, with apologies for this 57-word poem not fitting the criteria for Friday Flash 55 this week....
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