Poem Thirteen: Volcano

*

The sky is falling.

Thick ash turns

everything black.

Some escape.

Some stay at home.

Closing their doors.

Closing their eyes.

Everything happens so fast. 

Wind, fire 

and silence.

The sun disappears.

Ash keeps falling.

Can I wager sunlight

for a little more time?

Thresholds, doorways,

windows fill with ash.

We are the lost

and found.

Plumes of hot ash, rock 

and toxic gas surge

from the volcano.

What would have been

the spring, the explosion

of cherry blossoms 

turns

gray.

I have a voice.

I have a story too.

There is wind, fire

and silence.

If I make small changes,

if I leave offerings

of myrtle, juniper, if I say

I’m sorry, please forgive me,

I love you, thank you

can I have one more 

chance

to live?

*