The Falling Man by Antony Owen

on nine twelve they spoke of the falling man
imagine developing his shape from water
gradually appearing in bleak suspension
leave him to dry into more than a shape
watch black grains form into her son
I heard the sky was perfect blue.

On nine thirteen you said that they looked like rain
maybe some were whole new worlds
white cotton should not turn scarlet
it should not lay by twisted steel
a mother is nationless in birth
her children belong to life
I heard he was born
perfect then
human.

they erased him.

Advertisements

One thought on “The Falling Man by Antony Owen

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s