Stare at flowers.
Not the snap-necked daffodils or the hyacinth your husband flattened with the car.
Take in the unblemished blossoms left.
Remind yourself that future thoughts
and prayers probably won’t be for your town
and if your town, not your kid’s school.
And if they are, statistically your child
would be scared but safe, hiding in a closet
under mops or climbing from a window, running
dazed toward the expressway to flag help.
Go back to the flowers. Let images
of snowdrop and crocus crowd out
former parents’ indescribable eyes.
Let the bible offer comfort. Abraham
was willing to give up his son as sacrifice.
Can we match his piety? The God
we’ve created in our image
demands blood.