their close call

a day of
September rain—chill
hangs ready at—the eaves

honey-dos casual
in their toss aside
to make way
for a game of
smiles on the lip
of a laugh—children
warm in a watchful
wonder with a
mouth full of cheerios
the spill
left for a—not so stray—dog
chairs pull up to a table
of elbows and dribbles of
gravy mashed with
potatoes—peas and
please pass the
round
kitchen chatter
over a clean
doesn’t have to be holiday
platter

the glass slips
from fingers’
hold a
tumble measured
time stretched
stop-watched
shatter—sudden
in its spread
across—the
flat floor—the
sirens
too far—away the
fire—too hungry
licks at a window view of
confusion

a crowd crushes out
reality & fumbles its
mumble of “what if it happened to me?”
too close to
my ear

psgates