Fire hydrants spill water 

on Brooklyn streets

as children play reckless and wild 

their white tees and cut-off shorts

saturated in innocence

I thought they did it 

so we could play 

cooled in the midday heat 

I wanted to believe that

but

After the towers fell

after the cloud swept over us

the flushing could not wash 

away the ash that covered us 

And these late afternoons 

we slouch home

soaked and worn 

the day pasted on our skin 

like a tattoo   a bruise 

Above us spectral lines 

cut the darkened sky

---

Michael Blaine grew up on the Eastern Shore in a mostly agricultural town.  He has degrees in English from Ole Miss and Salisbury University.   He has two chapbook publications and is a Delaware Fellowship of the Arts recipient.   He taught high school English for over twenty years and currently teaches English and Creative Writing at Delaware Technical Community College.  He lives in Seaford, Delaware with his wonderful family of five, a golden, and two cats.