After everything is over
and the ambulance has left
from just down the street,
and the ladder truck too,
and the neighbors have all
gone back into their homes,
he and his parents too, with his camera
with which he photographed
the ambulance and the fire truck,
and the paramedics
bringing the neighbor out on a stretcher,
I see the boy across the street
sitting in the bay window of his house,
head in hand, gazing out at the flowers
his mother has planted in their front garden,
or maybe at the shade cast across the yard
by the maple, leaves rustling in the spring breeze,
or maybe at his brothers riding their bikes
up and down the sidewalk.


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