Day 305

I saw a girl split in two.
I saw an old man without legs.
I saw a three year old
sit watching her mother die.
I saw a shattered bird, a crushed dog,
a boy without a head.
All these things I saw with my eyes.
I saw the sun set
on a field I could not name.
I saw what had been a city
crumble and fall.  All these things
I tell you I saw — they live
within me.  They don’t
leave me alone.  They haunt 
my days. In my sleep
sometimes they come to me
and the girl is whole again 
and runs through the field, 
the old man races after her,
as though he were
young; the mother
of the little child stands,
takes her crying daughter
into her arms, whispers
I’m here, I’m here; the boy
turns his head toward them
and speaks, the dog
runs toward them, almost
dancing.  The bird soars overhead,
over the shining roofs of the city.