Star for the Journey

searching

  • Sifters of the Stone

    After the thunder,after the sky had finished falling,after steel had folded itselfinto shapes no architect intended, they came. Not with trumpets.Not beneath banners. With buckets.With gloved hands.With masks powdered graybefore the morning was old. They came to sift the stone. Piece by piece,handful by handful,they searched what fire had mingled—concrete with paper,glass with iron,office keys…

  • Blue September

    At first, there was only darkness. Concrete pressed against concrete,dust thickened every breath,and somewhere beyond the weight of it allcame sounds too distant to name. He called out. Then again. Nothing. Until somewhere above hima thread of light appearedbetween broken steel and stone. And beyond it— blue. September blue. The same impossible bluethat had stretched…