My (old) poem is a day late.
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Expectant faces,
Fearful faces,
Peeping out of windows.
Office hours had JUST begun
But how could life be over?
Suddenly, definitely, precisely
And clinically for everyone.
We were just balancing
The morning coffee in one hand,
And files in another?
A lightening struck,
To plunge everything
And everyone in darkness.
Would we melt together
With concrete and mortar?
Was it our destiny
To be one with steel girdles?
And not with mother earth?
What had we done
In our lives,
To not deserve a few feet
Below the earth?
But to evaporate
With the vapor of morning coffee?
