the promise
children die do not talk to me about prayer or paradise talk is cheap children die and my anger supercedes my grief remember it was a november morning like any other when the plaster the bricks the mortar came crashing down children die under the rubble of the promise women cry the air is as […]
life is split at the seams
no one knows the exact number of the dead not even the storm herself though her course is charted and images circle the earth of wind and rain that hurl and whirl swallowing everything in their path (they laid there like dolls one next to the other they laid there as if they had been […]