A Bad Time Between Houses
I remember walking where bombs had fallen
by Lindsay Crosby
between two rows of houses
Weeds and a surviving evergreen mask the devastation that happened there
But not what the future brought and it brought it without shame
He would stand there in the shadow waiting
He seemed to have been standing there for most of my childhood
As faceless today as he had ever been
He had all the horror of another person’s experience of the war in his eyes
He had the sorrow of someomeelses loss of the heart on his hands
Yet he was obviously physically unscathed
He always carried a plastic bag and I wondered if the monster lived in that bag
Over the years in this featureless town several children went missing
A woman of a leathery complexion was often seen roaming the neighborhood
Like a threat.
He was aware of her and she of him but they had not met since she was a child.
I remember where each bomb fell
With satisfaction I watched them demolish row after row of houses
But the weeds and the evergreen strangely remain.