I imagine
the hidden children
Choking back
their fear
Nostrils burn with smoke
Mixed with
the scent of wood
In the
cupboard that saves their lives.
Catch a
bubble, Teacher told them.
The children
aren’t here, she lied.
Should they run?
The unseen
children wonder.
But Teacher
knows where they are
Playing hide-and-seek.
They listen
to Teacher; she knows.
And when the
other children
Who hid in
the closet instead,
Bolt out and
race for the door
They hear the
shrieks
Drowned out
by firecracker pops
And after,
deadly silence.
A warning
then, don’t come out.
So they wait
And perhaps
they pray
Silent sobs,
one sound might lead
The bad man
to them
And the next
shrieks may be their own.
They hear
the sound of footsteps running away
Stomping,
not their teacher’s feet
So they peek
from their cupboard
And flee, quick
and quiet as mice
Step around
The bloody bodies of their friends
The bloody bodies of their friends
and Teacher.
The classroom floor is
A movie
their parents
Would never
allow them to watch
At least
they survive
To dream
their worst nightmare
Over and
over again.
