Excavation
As a young boy in northern Ohio
I feared the bomb
It was drilled into us
I dreamt of being the last person
on earth
B-52s flying overhead leaving
Chemtrails of death and existential oblivion
Things for which I had no words then
So we became commanders of our fate
and began digging a bomb shelter
in the backyard of Summit Street
A pick and a shovel hacking away
10-year-old muscles powered by
dread and excitement
Stopped by a gnarly mass of Maple root
Biology and geology conspiring against us
We were lured inside by lunch
and resignation
Today I wonder
how much further we could have gone
As I excavate a way forward
70-year-old muscles powered by
dread and excitement
Hacking away at
fear, uncertainty, doubt
Dreamless and digging
Always digging
I remember that house on Summit Street and I remember the fear of low-flying bombers, too. Your posts are always worth my time. Thank you.