They were like a spattering
Of raindrops, more felt than seen
Except for their footsteps in puddles
That they attempted to diminish.
They were childlike in the way they seemed
To sneak around, seeing invisibility as being
Undetectable. They couldn’t hear
The clamoring and banging their movements
Made or else they didn’t care.
We thought of capturing them
Through photography but wrote off
That idea as a pipedream;
They’d just dash away leaving only
Ripples and wakes in their place.
We never knew what they were
Or why they really did what they did.
They were the storm that appeared
After the hurricane, seeming to devastate
Us even more but really just washing
Away the debris.
They cleaned up after people
Who were spread so thin
They couldn’t possibly clean
Up after themselves or lift
A single finger to do much of anything.
We lived like tomorrow was a miracle,
Not in fear of them but ourselves,
Panicked our own bodies would betray
Us suddenly and start snapping and stretching
As if trying desperately to reach some lofty
Place. So we stopped dreaming in hopes
That we could trick ourselves, but we kept
Sensing them moving through derelict streets
To scrub away at yet another incident.
We felt like fools rooted to the present,
Thinking our bodies could sense
Our dreams and were reaching out
To grab hold of them, the disconnect
Of the ridiculousness not registering.
The situation was so cartoonish
It would’ve had us slapping our knees
Had the reality not been so traumatic
And enigmatic. So we stuck together
Like slabs of concrete on the pavement
Knowing some of us could potentially crack.
But at least we would witness what was happening.
Maybe they were loud because the death was quiet,
So they rattled and clanged on everything
With wide-eyed joy as they raced through
The roads to show us they meant to help.
Maybe they wanted us to see the ripples
Of their footsteps, so small yet contained
In contrast to our situation.
Yet we didn’t dare hope for a future
Where they would no longer be with us.
Their secrets would remain locked away,
With us never discovering what they were.
And we carried no intention
Of navigating those waters
In case our bodies tried racing ahead
Like too eager children, naively unaware
Of what they might wreak.
About the Author
Kopratic (no pronouns) is a lover of all things speculative and absurd in visual and written media, and is also an ESL teacher by day.
