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What’s left is nearly two fifths of
what we came for. We came as
children trying to push away what

comes next. The world is a hungry wave
that can’t see you. We could hardly
tell each other about it, how we knew

we were gone from the beginning, how
tenderness would never be enough and the
sunlight burns the precious first. You can’t

be hard enough in the face of it. Those
who can’t see stand the best chance. They
move ahead with the confidence of stone.

We fed the dogs as long as we could, then
sheets of rain washed everyone away.

 


Rob Spiegel is a writer and journalist living in New Mexico. He is a senior editor at Design News. His poetry, fiction or drama have appeared in Halfway Down the Stairs, Prick of the Spindle and Adobe Walls.

© 2012, Rob Spiegel

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