Jul/Aug 2007 Poetry |
Fractures
(after 4 boys drowned on Dec. 17, 2002 in Minnesota)
A hairline fracture
opens and swallows
the boys.Like a child gasping
during an asthma attack,
the frozen mouth sucks in what life it can.
The boys are inhaled
as quietly as naked branches
shaking in no wind.The incident happens so suddenly
it almost doesn’thappen.
Slow freezing is peaceful.
The auditorium of the lungs fills
with no applause but the open mouths
of a shocked audience
who can’t accept
how quickly
and quietly
the end comes.