Hitting that main artery,
only just,
the shot still matters--
incomplete and harsh and cold.
A small morsel
among the rubble
with ringing in her ears
knows not where
her dog is,
so she calls out
hoping someone can hear her.
II.
The body dies gradually--
nerves tingling, as if waking up--
but communication is complete.
Arteries jam, then close,
but she can still pull herself
up and out
of the shell
as cold gives way to heat, then fire--
a burst of activity and noise
as the ringing stops
and the sirens begin.
III.
She is the tiniest thing,
the most fragile package,
the most scared little girl
with lungs rattling
and eyes burning.
Her city, her surrogate,
could no longer
hold her and patiently answer
her many questions.
So, she waited,
between crying out
a name she knew.
She waited for a friend
