Back Then
by
Radiance Angelina Petro
Thursday mornings, the library on York Road,
would throw dozens of disgarded books into the dumpster.
You can bet I climbed in and saved as many as I could.
Back then, I went from disaster to disaster seeking out
survivors of car wrecks and plane crashes, carrying the wounded
to safety. As tragedies unfolded, I was there—
a well-traveled sun retelling the night, out in the open,
where kids slid down twisting slides on the playground,
cudgels of thunder beating clouds into tornados–I was there
shielding the little ones—there were already too many poems
about graves, and dammit to hell I was going
to find shelter for each and every one of those kids.
I learned every step cultivates the way, and immortality is ill,
and who knows why. But I was there–thwarting death’s heavy demands.
I carried the indwelling Christ, and it was my God given task to save the world.