countdown

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

completely
cracked
open.
desperate fragility
one moment,
then calm acceptance and patience,
then the open wound of my tender heart
as the world spins around
and around.
planes explode,
bombs fly,
aren't the verbs backwards?
my fingers require minute instructions
for functioning in any coordinated way
and whole armies are coordinated by code.
drones target and officials pose
and I can only pray
that there is no malignancy,
that I don't have to start counting down
the sunsets,
the evenings I have left to bathe in cicada song,
the drips from the hummingbird feeder
and the whir of wings,
the little green lizards that come to
lap with darting tongues on the
leaves left sticky with sweet water...
I don't want to have to count
the fireflies I'll see,
the deer I'll greet on my evening walks,
the raindrops on my skin,
the comforts of morning tea,
or the times I'll say I love you.