The White Triangular Iron Grills Fronting The Burnt House Poem by RIC BASTASA

the safety you planned
did not work out
outside the danger
did not come
between the two worlds
separated by iron grills
you thought that nothing
evil comes your way
you have not anticipated
that the monster was inside
it spurted the gas
and the flint caught it
and the tongue of fire
came out licking everything
you own burning everything
you stored for the future
dreams and all
and fantasies and hopes
now everything is gone
what is left is the charred bone
a broken Achilles' heel
smothered face
and a twisted view