Life After…Go figure

A Narrative of Life Outside The Box

Boston

The back-farm country of New England has been my home a long time.

But I’m from Boston. I grew up a ten minute walk from the blast site. I was born in one of the hospitals now full of patients and on lock-down.

 My husband’s heart is somewhere on premises at one of the others.

The Common, where lost and frightened runners massed, is the same spread of green where I ran and played while the church bells sang and the sun stretched.

The library to the right of one of the smoke columns is where we went to watch film strips and have children’s story hour.

My sister was at the site and simply happened to leave an hour before the explosions.

An eight year old I have not met is dead.

Nobody should be in this club. Nobody should have to feel solidarity; this is not something a single soul should be familiar with.

This is our cry.

This is our Prayer.

Peace on Earth.

*Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes Eleanor Coerr. 1977

Advertisements

Single Post Navigation

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: