Tower of Fire, Tower of Smoke

Will he dream all his life of falling through siren-howling dark
or flying through fire and shattering glass?
Miraculous safe landing in the arms of a stranger
cushioned by an angel’s wings? Will he remember the figure
gesturing from the window? Did Moses remember
the hand that launched the boat?

This tower of smoke squats against the London sky
unmoving, guiding to a Land of Promise not kept
not kept. This tower of fire marks no sanctified sacrifice.
No Exodus. No exit. No escape for you. Throw your child down.
Did you see the miracle? Was it the last thing
printed on your eyeballs burnt lidless?

When the names of the dead are told we’ll know
little more than we know now. A falling baby
with no return address. A figure in a window
with flames behind.

Wordless we stand under
a tower of smoke.

Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside