We dig in

deeper

as if there is nowhere to go

but down,

nothing to lower

but more coffins,

here and over there, too.

As if sentenced to somnambulance.

How long will it take

to tunnel away from these graves,

to wander in the loamy dark just beneath the surface

waiting for miracles from a sky we never see?

How long to heal these bodies shorn of limbs

and minds memory-burdened?

How long to dig the way back from terror,

POP UP

through the earth's crust,

rub sleepy dirt from nightmare eyes,

AWAKEN to the holy land everywhere,

as if everywhere there are holy children,

who walk to school and play games

among the intact?

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