I watch the bombers pass, an echo of warmth from your hand in mine. You were saved below in the company of earthworms and maggots. Saved from being blown apart, saved below a proper headstone.
I watch the city burning, I hear the screams of neighbors and sense the reek of death, but I also hear a blackbird singing, oblivious; and in its songs, I am bombarded yet.
I stand, an anvil of guilt is chained around my neck. Falling to my knees I beg the bombers to return, to claim my soul
but utterly alone I cry.
I thought I saved you from the horror of fosfor melting on your skin, a quick goodbye was better than being burned alive.
I drop the bloodstained shovel to the ground, turn and leave for my long journey into hell while the oblivious blackbird keeps singing.
November 8, 2021