Silica Hell

Deep; Growing with intensity;
He lies there in the dark; Not able to
shatter the pane between him and the
fault line of then and now-
Simmering; Just short of breathless
silence-
In the afterglow of silica hell-
Eyes swollen from the fallout-
And he hears the cries; Still he hears
the cries that will never dismiss him-

Once rock solid; There within lies discomfort
and the quivering; Oh so unshakeable-
Photos on the bedroom wall- Same as ever
before- Not one speaks to him like they
used too-
Even they notice; and turn away from it all;
So why can’t he?

They weren’t there; They don’t know; Didn’t see;
Didn’t hear the cries-
Never saw the hurt in my Brother’s eyes-
and felt the pain; that damn crucifying pain
just before; Just before one dies-
Or the guilt of having to walk away-

Neighbors nod; Then go back to pruning
their fruit trees-
Like they don’t know; How could they?
Can they not see me? Hell, maybe they don’t.
My children give me a quick hug-
Just like they had always done before-
Can they not feel the difference?

Backward emotions; So happy to be home;
staring at the stains on the living room carpet-
Red wine; A dinner party reminder-
Roadside bombs in brown paper bags-
Thunderous garbage trucks roll down his spine;
Stopping just short of exploding-
Squealing breaks alerts him to the danger-
Fingertips slash into the center of his palms-

Rubbing his scratchy swollen eyes; Lying there
in the darkness of what's left of that silica hell-
He turns to the beautiful face sleeping beside him-
Takes her warm gentle hand and pulls it to his cheek-
She relaxes in his arms, and he in hers-
then realizes..he’s really home.

© Lisa Hilbers
03/09/2006