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