It's an air raid siren,
by Richard George
red alert. Face slapped
Jabberwock, all maw, she howls.
My heart jumps to. I catch
a woman's eye: glances of strangers twine
into a safety net. 'Where's your Mum? '
A finger-stub j'accuses.
They hug, Furies reconciled,
a confluence of molten.
Left hand in right
they set off down the road to guilt, and pardon.