Today is not like any other day
nor was yesterday
or several for that matter
for the 44 million citizens
catapulted into terror
stripped of all that
was normal, expected,
routine, ordinary.
Just the other day
someone,
a woman let’s say,
may have been at the nail salon
prior to meeting
friends for lunch
at that favorite café.
Now she sits huddled
clasping her toddler
against her breast
as she nestles in,
closely rubbing shoulders
with strangers
in a make shift bomb shelter.
The now of each moment
is one, the only present;
the past unwrapped
nevermore.
Yet, just for an instant only
she thinks that the other day
she was making a list
of what was needed
at the market,
just as I do.
