I knew there was nothing I could do.
It was as if all the windows shattered
in an instant of bubblegum rush–
all bent brass. Pearlescent plummet
clawing the meaty palm of John, who
refused to look anywhere but up. Whispering
dust filled prayers to circle around the room.
On the floor eyelash dusting gold
flecks and we stopped. Touched
fingertips to sugared wood. Picked dirt
from our nails, took off our shoes,
and walked over the remains.
