November 2020
Mary McCarthy
Mmccarthy161@gmail.com
Bio Note: The idea of survival is much on my mind lately, with my own experience having Covid-19, the firestorm apocalypse in the west, and the endangered state of the nation. Although none of these are resolved, it seems all of us are survivors who keep breathing and hoping, and working under such threats.

Close Call

Tell me
It was more than luck
A bad situation
But not a toss up
My chances better than they looked
Open and naked with nothing
Left to say
Tell me again
It was an ordinary day
Ending as it had to
Safe and sound without much
I wasn’t ready for
I promise this time
I will believe
Everything you say
I will keep all your words
Folded like a prayer
In my pocket
And promise not to open them
Into the darkness 
I know hides behind them

Flash

The world after rain
Sweet as just laundered sheets
Greens flush and water-fat
Flowers face up and fresh
Bending gently
Beneath each tickling bee
Such mornings will not bear
Complaint
From any left survivors
Of the sudden flood
Who did not drown
And were not struck
By lightnings or the falling trees
That brought a swift end
To some unlucky caught
Too far from shelter
And the high ground
Both safety and this
Clean morning
Impossible to reach
©2020 Mary McCarthy
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