little blue flowers

buttered mess of things

it was last Sunday
she stomped her foot
and the world cracked open beneath her
we watched from the creaking porch
lemonade glasses rattlin' on the tray
as she fell in with a trill
songbird left to her own devices
we didn't bother to try and be heroes.

we examined the crevice the next day
I held you by your shoelaces as sunlight
was swallowed by the darkness
we couldn't see her
could barely see our hands in front of us
but still we fed rope down and I watched
I watched and let you go down there
following behind
a flashlight between my teeth
the hum of that emptiness a serenade
a moment passed where I didn't hear
your heavy breathing
I thought I'd lost you
but then I felt those familiar hands
circle my waist and
I nearly wept with relief.

picking along tremor and rock and death
we gave ourselves up to that darkness
police sirens shrieking above, muted
Mama is probably just waking up,
I thought to myself
Dad's at the shop prying at broken things
I wish he could fix this for us
we're just kids
we don't have to be heroes.

but I held tight to the flashlight
straightened my glasses, prayed for rain,
regretted that and prayed for sun,
and trudged on
it must've been hours before we heard
the first glimmer of hope
she was crying herself hoarse
beneath rubble and dirt
reaching for us with sickly pale arms
emerald dragonfly eyes blinking slowly
she called you a saint
and I guess she was right.

I can pinpoint the exact moment she left
her body, life leeched broken bone
we stopped digging her from the wreckage for a moment
as that final breath stilled the air
and released
I'm sorry we couldn't save you
I'm sorry we didn't try to save you.

we brought her body back up together
the sirens wail louder up here
Mama was sitting on the porch
Dad beside her fidgeting with napkins
tears welling in their eyes and spilling
when they saw me
but I was watching you
and the body was dragged away
a flash of light and questions
we made the papers
but we weren't heroes.