Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

We waited. They had told us
it was coming, to be ready.
Not when. So we waited all night
not knowing was the worst,
not really afraid. Over our shoulders
imagined terrors vanished.
They had not said to be afraid,
that it might be dangerous–besides,
we believed they kept watch.

We blinded windows, locked doors,
but we did not sleep. Morning came.
Nothing had happened
and there was no news.
Our glances jittered among phantoms,
familiar faces, changing.
The clocks failed.

Faint cries told us we had locked
something outside. Terrier whined
at the door then slunk, tail tucked,
behind the couch.
The cries weakened, faded.
We choked on boluses of guilt.

Uneasy, we whispered
of arming ourselves
with guns, sharp steel.
Often we make sure the blinds
are closed, the doors locked..

We are waiting,
afraid to look outside.

Jim 3/10

no need to name names in a historical or political sense, and certainly this has other metaphorical possibilities. the absence of clear designation gives it a more profound effect - nice!