Brett
Engineer
Loud clothes draped
across slim slumped shoulders.
Quick chip eyes
scan – register- blowing
damage information straight
into a fire frenzied brain
Bellow for his thought.
A slack hand rolled smoke
bobs – gnawed –
dangling at the precipice
of speech
He grumbled and repeats
all confidence edged and weight –
Seventeen hours,
Then we can go home.
~Sarah Ockershausen Delp