1
A terrorist did not fall
Out of my sky last night
Nor today. Bright blue she
Shone in her virginal dress
Untouched, white floating
Ribbons around her neck.
Waiting, expectantly. Alone.
No, a terrorist did not fall
Out my sky last night.
Nor did an aeroplane
Scratch her unblemished skin
Left no marks, no trails,
No fire, no scars across
That huge expanse so high.
My sky did not cry last night.
No clouds to block her view
Or mine, no grey, no black
To change her hue. No tears
Came running down, whispering
Or pouring or flooding. I did
Though as I hugged the night
Wept in my sleep, my thoughts
To keep as to when I would fly
In the sky, where all this space
Above me, beside me, wherever
I look, could hold me. I listen now,
See black dots in strange formations,
Hear the geese, they call, they fly :
They will migrate to another sky.
2
An acorn fell out of the sky
Hit me on the head
I fell, I limped, held out my
Hand for another.
I planted them
And now I have a forest.
Where squirrels play.
Wendy Atkinson, on the river Elbe near Domitz, 17 October 2018