Ben and Jessica stopped,
Bodies rigid. I reached
For my non-existent gun
As the earth irrupted
Screeching like a tin roof
Bending beyond its limitation.
Seeing a brilliant churning
I climbed up from the sea,
Seeing Susan at the tiller
With wind sweeping her hair
About her head. I sat there,
Water dripping from my mask
Watching her never wavering
Eyes as she steered toward home.
------------------------------------------------------------------
To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off,
digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html
