Black and white photo of horror in color
From a safe distance of many years
I luridly recall your details.

At the airport, I see your fearsome construction
I marvel at how it came together
And struggle to understand how and why, because
I couldn’t help then and I failed to help now.
Regret draws me closer.

Trespassing through a farm, stealing the earth
Late for work and malicious at birth
A hungry wind with a green sky calling card.
Darkening danger almost on top of us,
as dad watches from the garage
and we play in the front yard.
“Open the windows. . . get in the car!”

Only a few seconds to gain enough distance.

Our school, our home, our hands and voices
Couldn’t hold on or offer enough resistance
against the finger of God.

I couldn’t help then and what am I doing now?
Regret sweeps me away.