Diary 20

If I would have known about the black rain
I would have kept you where it was dry, and warm.

We would listen to the rain hiss on the asphalt
your innocence wrapped up in me
my arms wrapped around you
armour that cannot fail.

Until the black winds howled
all wings leapt up
smeared black across the sky.

We would stay, I thought, where it was dry
and warm, but then I heard the black heat
crackle through the pines
all dust and ash, defiled bloom.

I would not have known the wildfire,
blessed tiny hands on swollen chest,
could not protect me.