the south asia quake
Twenty thousand of them crushed
just like that, dissipating into nothing,
while we ate breakfast, put cereal bowls
in the dish washer,
grabbed car keys,
drove to work,
walked to school,
and squabbled.
When my child came into the kitchen,
and music turned into News
she said, ‘do we need to hear this now?’
she didn’t want to hear about disasters;
Kids, they never do.
Not that she didn’t care.
Her little life is full of care for friends
and those who are hurting;
her love is lavished
unreservedly.
When I said, ‘today them, tomorrow us,’
She said, ‘sorry Mum, it’s not that I don’t care.
But, I’ve already seen it on Blue Peter,
and once is enough.’
Twenty thousand of them crushed
just like that,
and I lay at night tormented by my husband’s
agonies of pending redundancy.
Now, that felt like suffering;
the mutilation by a dark foreboding
of the life we knew;
destruction of our hopes and livelihood,
annihilation of our ease of living,
a turfing out from our comfort zone,
and crushing into rubble
all that’s now secure.
And we too got up,
ate breakfast,
spoke pleasantries as if those two
winks at night were never missing,
and dark anxiety did not nearly choke
our life away.
We polished shoes,
made sandwiches for the day,
kissed good bye, hopeful;
my husband heading
for the plane across the channel,
business as usual…..
just like that, dissipating into nothing,
while we ate breakfast, put cereal bowls
in the dish washer,
grabbed car keys,
drove to work,
walked to school,
and squabbled.
When my child came into the kitchen,
and music turned into News
she said, ‘do we need to hear this now?’
she didn’t want to hear about disasters;
Kids, they never do.
Not that she didn’t care.
Her little life is full of care for friends
and those who are hurting;
her love is lavished
unreservedly.
When I said, ‘today them, tomorrow us,’
She said, ‘sorry Mum, it’s not that I don’t care.
But, I’ve already seen it on Blue Peter,
and once is enough.’
Twenty thousand of them crushed
just like that,
and I lay at night tormented by my husband’s
agonies of pending redundancy.
Now, that felt like suffering;
the mutilation by a dark foreboding
of the life we knew;
destruction of our hopes and livelihood,
annihilation of our ease of living,
a turfing out from our comfort zone,
and crushing into rubble
all that’s now secure.
And we too got up,
ate breakfast,
spoke pleasantries as if those two
winks at night were never missing,
and dark anxiety did not nearly choke
our life away.
We polished shoes,
made sandwiches for the day,
kissed good bye, hopeful;
my husband heading
for the plane across the channel,
business as usual…..