Some say a flight of birds shot up the way
a flock surprised leaps free from field or marsh.
But no, that flash was not just boys at play.
It was a strike and flame more swift and harsh.
Some say the river stopped its glide of light.
Some tried again the doors, but locks were jammed.
Some say the smoke was thick and dark as night —
The slow and subtle suck of being damned.
There was a crack, a roar, then floor to floor,
They fall — the sides like skin just peel away.
Who counts the stars? Who stripes the map of war?
The nudge of earth just said, "Do come this way."
And so America both arms and morns.
God grants the rose. Be wary of the thorns.