in memory of an unexpected explosion

a plane roars overhead
and i am grateful

that the explosion
that follows

dwells only in the cave
of my imagination

grateful that explosions
are naught but figments

reminded again that
at any moment without

warning they might become
your present hell

wishing that all explosions
would backtrack into

the innocent materials
before they were wrought

to commit the grisly deed
of blowing apart destinies

the complacent materials
that line the cliffs and caves

and lie twinkling along
the dusty shore

had no intention to harm
and that breaks my heart

i wish that the only roar would
come from the mother ocean

determined to once again be
the loudest thing on this earth