i cannot think past the young girl gone missing

right in my own town

right in the very same

village where my own

daughter was playing

last night, saying,

‘mom, stop worrying

so much; this is a safe



right where she ran with the other girls,

her hair trailing behind her like a mare,

her heart wild-singing under a full fall moon


right at the almost-age of young woman


it is a heart-gut-soul-wrenching terror

to have a child in this world


in this place where every thing

you think you know is pulled out


from under you

from inside of you


under a heart beat


it makes you want to hide

and keep your children inside




for you know this is not the

first or last time; for you know

you cannot fight this kind of evil


but what kind of life is that?


love out-endures in the long end,

and perhaps faith carries it there;


but where do hope and joy

go in that monstrous moment?


joy is gone in a flash — with the girl


hope must be kept alive at the bedside;

otherwise, how do you ever get up again?


how do you ever close your eyes to sleep?

how do you ever trust to dream?


UPDATE: Fiona returned home safely the following morning. No further details provided (or needed). Thank God!


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