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Friday, February 01, 2008

You and I slept ...

By Francis Scudellari

You and I slept … the world caught fire.
Not all of it, just some, one's peace.
Close by … mere feet … maybe dozens
Away. We dreamed ourselves alone.

A spark escaped, then ignited,
After he (she?), we drifted off.
The alarm's high pitch never reached
Our pillowed ears, comfort-buried.

Flames spread, quick, alive like panic,
But couldn't move doze-deadened senses.
Out word-leaping, their cries for help;
Our minds/eyes turned inward, in-stead.

Sirens vied, raced, drew near, slipped by
Dream-disguised as far-fetched effects.
Shattered glass, shouted motion called;
Our hearts, shallow-beat, wouldn't respond

Until friend-wrung awake, aware
Of charred black walls, now-doused damage,
Moving through tossed-out remains … We
Too-late witness, a ruined life

2 comments:

fihanna said...

bene,
You are one bard of antique gold,
filled with unapproachable ideals,
...
"Our hearts, shallow-beat, wouldn't respond"
bello questo!

Francis Scudellari said...

Grazie tante Hanna. I hope my ideals are approachable though :).