Today’s Howard Nemerov: “Fables of the Moscow Subway”
My poem was written from this prompt: “Write about something that scares you.” So far, I haven’t titled any of my poems, but this one I can’t help but call “Fear.” What I’ve written below is one of my absolute worst fears, something I pray will never happen. Even now, I pray to God that it will not happen. (I wonder if I should even share this fear. Is it too much? Too raw?)
Fear
When they sleep in beds at night,
In darkness, under cover cold,
I hope they’re warm, but not too much.
Too much of the furnace, aluminum stove
With cracks that spit scentless poison or worse,
And in those ever-heating rooms, a fire should burst:
The flames emerge like nightmare dragons
Their bed-sheets turn to piles of ashes,
And they, their faces streaked with tears,
Cry for me who cannot come,
A wall of hot hell between us runs,
And their shrieks die,
Rising with house-smoke to the sky.
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