Donna [Five]

Kiera slept soundly,
As the night.
She was beautiful, on the pale blue pillow.
Now, it was seven years.
There had been other women, and a few men.
Kiera had tripped
On the church steps,
When a piece of stone
Beneath her foot.

They stood together, thinking of the colder days ahead. No school groups came
After November.
When Kiera’s mother died,
They knelt on the cold cushions.
Donna’s bore a green-gold tree, Kiera’s some other pattern.
A tile
From beneath Donna’s knee

As they pushed to their feet,
A chunk of ceiling crashed, leaving them coughing
And spluttering in the dust.
‘God!’ Kiera shrieked.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s