An Uncertain Sky Makes Her Wary of Stillness

She repeats to herself:

This is history. Pay attention.

The braided rug. Her bare

feet. The braided rug

means nothing. Pay attention.

Her baby’s knees. Scuff.

Crawling.

Fruit flies.

Cantaloupe rinds. Coffee

grinds. The sink. Pay

attention. The baby.

The T.V. Blaring.

The baby. The sink.

           The sink. The city

in ash. The city

on fire. The baby.

The baby cannot

say fire.