May I?
       

No buildings burning. No smoke.
I can make the day come back
when family was everything.

I call a loved one, two.
I speak. I joke,
make light of empty rooms,

the curious policeman
pounding on my door
in a false alarm. Do I say

what I called for? No.
I let them go, hang up,
douse the porch light

allowing me to see
who's come for me, friend
or foe. Today, a town

in Kansas died, stilled
by a wind gone mad
and blind, paradise

lost. O to be serene
as Vermeer's woman
holding a balance

that is empty,
who appears unaware
of the shrill

scene behind her,
the painting
within the painting

of souls writhing
in the last judgment,
Christ's arms raised

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Copyright © 2012 Elisabeth Murawski All rights reserved
from The Journal
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission