shattered Glass on bed. Night air
through window: tattered
screen, sliced blinds
in the room…
teeth Shiver, billowed curtains
struggle to swivel my eyes. Voices

Footsteps, light in the hall,
behind the door.
how many? Iced door
knob, slippery, can’t turn it;
wrap the blanket around it. Iron
door, rigid and cold.
alarmed Voices the Hall
they know I’m awake Fast feet
stomach rolls; breath deserted me
Open door, my feral eyes—ready

nothing, Empty hallway.
No family No light. All the windows
smashed beds and dressers gone. End
of hallway, voices. hand on blank
walls Abducted family
pictures Stripped carpet, bare
floor Bent nails, snagged feet Shuffle across
the sawdust. End of hallway, living room

No TV, trophies, flowers, upright piano—
all gone
Wide open front door. Paralyzed, lost child
Memories stolen. nothing to hold onto
in the dark Flattened
front door; ripped hinges, splintered frame

a Van at the front door, backed
to the edge of chipped brick steps. Voices
in the van. Ignition, muffler coughs
Burnt tire tracks on mown lawn. Empty house.
alone, too nauseous to cry