boston marathon bombing

Some­time
In the year
(Every year)

 

In the spring
When the trees
Mist green

 

Or late sum­mer
When the trucks
Leave red dust
On the rails
Of footpaths

 

We learn words
That go together
Hold­ing hands
Like chil­dren do:

 

nine eleven
fukushima explo­sion
tube bomb­ing
box­ing day tsunami
bali bomb­ing
can­berra bushfires

 

My child­hood is
Carved with them
The memory
Of first hearing

 

Those words
Together like
A child being born

 

boston mara­thon bombing

 

Is another to add
To my memory

 

The dates fade
And faces and the
Places you sat
When you found out
How your legs
Were fol­ded and
Who you were
In love with but

 

The words
In the man­ner
Of words
Remain
Carved into us

 

Like nurs­ery rhymes
And fairy tales
Like an eight year old’s
Life spread across a street;

 

When we are altzheimers
And bones
We will remem­ber
And sing
Under our breaths

 

boston mara­thon bomb­ing
can­berra bush­fires
bali bomb­ing
box­ing day tsunami
tube bomb­ing
fukushima explo­sion
nine eleven.

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