Between Lives
her back against wall;
nowhere to run.
bricks close in,
hardly the sun.
the last light
will be a spark —
terror
triggers
final bullet
of Fall.
window panes
like empty pews
look on
with wan faces.
enemy’s close,
whites of mine eyes
camouflaged over;
uniform green
relegates retinas.
what petrifies more -
the sands before
or after time?
in nightmares,
surely the steady aim
and the click
makes one sick.
pillow of bright white,
boxed in.
wake up...wake up
11/9/2020
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2020
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