lay witness

doubtless i have witnessed it
i cannot really tell
i haven't imagined the scene
over and over it plays
like a performance that has worn thin
almost to the very core
i am moved by the pictures of the children
reaching out with their outstretched hands
beckoning
calling
images that suddenly vanish
only white mist remains on the stoop where the old lady sat
did she hear the flash
and see the wind as it burned through her town
no town
remains of a place with just a name
did it bring happiness to those who forged a life from her
the tiny storess with fresh baked goods
and the drunk who knew all for some cigarettes and a drink