Moore Waits

"Behave!" you call as little boy walks out the door
or "Have a better day today!" as you let her out at school. You feed them pancakes, buy them paper, and at Christmas there's a planter in the somewhat corny shape of an apple or a pencil, showing you appreciate the teachers in your life, never guessing that they'll play a part in making sure your child can live another day. They've drilled for catastrophic happenings, but pinned beneath the rubble, they know that nothing could have possibly prepared the class for this. It's dark and quiet now
that freight train winds have traveled on to frighten other children,
and on the other side of town you pray your baby's
one who's still alive and look around at all the other parents
waiting and you hate yourself for hoping that if only one
more child is found, it will be yours,
but still you do.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2013