Early Morning Surprise
(Rattle ekphrastic challenge--writing a poem in response to an image)
Early Morning Surprise We’re flying too fast Screeches and squeals over-strained steel scraping the tracks the brakes are shot After this curve, steep decline and abyss Our train won’t survive the turn Suppressing a scream fist pressed to my chest I think of my spouse gulping a shot to steady his hands before stashing the kids at the shelter and school Six children under seven, they will not thrive motherless
No need to apologize. Part of the beauty, joy, and sometimes heartbreak about a good poem is that we distill them through the sieve of our experiences - both long ago and recent, like these mountain deaths.
Haunting. Reminds me of Munch's scream. Too close to home for me today. Thinking of the moms as the avalanche buried them.