Smoke rolled across Main Street. An eruption of flames lit the dark morning sky.
But I wouldn’t know. I went back to sleep.
The tornado sirens clanged. Firemen battled soot, and the sanity telling them to get out.
Some were injured.
But I wouldn’t know. I went back to sleep.
People drifted downtown, dazed.
Feeling like the earthquakes and hurricanes had finally hit our little Iowa town.
But I wouldn’t know. I went back to sleep.
Scorching memories of a day ten years past rose up with the smoke.
My town watched silently, side by side, facing the fires together.
But I wouldn’t know.
I went back to sleep.
Spoiler
This was my morning. I was tired. There was another hour before I had to get up. It sounded like the chaos was winding down. So I went back to sleep, and woke up regretting it. Feeling callous and apathetic and... Bleh. "The grocery store is gone. Sad." But it's a bigger deal than that, especially with the timing... I wasn't planning to write anything for 9-11. But then this happened. And during church, listening to people talk about how - for just a second, as they headed up town, they felt some of what New York City felt ten years ago - this idea rose up.
I don't want to be someone that rolls over and goes back to sleep after a disaster. I want to care. I want to be there. I want to help, however I can. *sigh*
So, yeah. That was my morning.
I haven't done much with poetry, and I did this in about five minutes. It's not the kind of thing I need feedback on. It's just... something I felt like I had to write. Thanks for reading.
I don't want to be someone that rolls over and goes back to sleep after a disaster. I want to care. I want to be there. I want to help, however I can. *sigh*
So, yeah. That was my morning.
I haven't done much with poetry, and I did this in about five minutes. It's not the kind of thing I need feedback on. It's just... something I felt like I had to write. Thanks for reading.
