James Thomas Hazard
She clings to the branch a foot above ground
Dangling her feet in the cool shade
Of forests in a valley, or so she imagines,
Singing the first song she learned as a child
The earth is an apple
That fell from a tree
And when it stops falling
My soul will be free
So she drops to the ground and runs through
the grass
Not knowing what, but something has happened
To a tower that sways in a strange wind
Of swirling ashes, dust and smoke
Tables are set for breakfast at eight
There is silverware wrapped in white cotton
napkins,
Porcelain cups on saucers for coffee
And the tall, elegant windows of the world
The awful silence of shock on their face
How solemn they look in the fractured light
Holding their phones and saying goodbye
“The stairs have collapsed. There’s fire. I
love you.”
Her friend holds her hand then takes her aside
“Those people won’t jump. I’m going to stay
with them.”
A strange calmness comes over her then
As she embraces her friend for the very first
time
“God bless you, Doreen,” she can barely
whisper
Her friend only nods and holds her tighter
There is too much to say and not enough time
Now their lives are measured in minutes
She hears the startled flight of birds
And her hands when she lifts them find the
branch,
Dangling her feet in the cool shade
She waits for her mother to come out of the
forests
To carry her gently down to the ground
“Hush now baby. Don’t be afraid
It’ll be alright. It’ll be alright
It’ll be…”