Cooks poured out of a restaurant into the streets. Tourists and Saturday night revelers paused to observe the activity. Police rushed to the scene. An ambulance arrived. Then a fire truck blared through the streets and arrived.
I was bewildered and busy trying to overhear what the danger was.
The police put a red, plastic line with the words “PELIGRO” on it across the street, blocking entry (sort of). An officer chastised two people who crossed it, but he permitted them to cut through to Pino Suarez.
Other spectators were trying simultaneously to overhear what the danger was. They were no help.
So, because I am my mother’s child, I started making up my own gossip.
It was: a hostage situation; a heart attack; a wild animal in the kitchen; a bomb threat. The building might explode.
A local, originally from Austin, listened to my catalogue of terrors, and he politely informed us that the real answer was a gas leak.
I was deflated at first. It was not as exciting as my imagination had insisted, but then I realized (I was right) the buidling might explode!
At a break in the forest, he saw a wide lake
frozen white and silent like some distant palazzo.
Nothing but dark necks rising from it.
A hundred black horses, heads studding the surface.
Through the ice he couldn’t see their bodies.
As if the cold had taken those completely.
read more at: http://poems.com/poem.php?date=16985
- Imagine a frightening and bewildering scene. Don’t put the puzzle togther; just invite us into the theater to see what remains on the stage.