Here's day fifteen's submission of NaPoWriMo (a poem a day for the month of April in honor of National Poetry Month):
“You never know,”
you said tonight, as we turned off the news
of the Boston marathon bombs
and the dead and the injured
screaming again and again
the explosions recurring dozens of times
replayed for us to watch
until our stomachs were in knots.
“I’m turning it off,” you said,
not willing or able to watch the blood
and the faces of people like us,
people we knew or might have known
(our doctor was in the race),
wrenched in anguish and horror,
wheeled to ambulances,
carried, or given CPR.
The cops had their guns drawn
looking for someone to shoot.
You dished up dinner as I lay
on the couch, suddenly weak and shaky.
“In a second, everything can change.”