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Bomb Sheltered

One recurring dream was of a bomb shelter

In the middle of the kitchen floor

Opening up to take us in

When the nuclear searing began.

The nightmares ended when the Wall did,

So we went to thinking Peace reigned.

We are fools. It cannot yet prevail,

The Zion we desire until another Fire clears

Purifies sears refines until the renewing comes.

But before, how horrible will the horrors be?

Fathers given weapons to protect families,

A patchwork quilt no interwoven shield,

Peacemongers no threat,

And as always man bent on…what?

No one knows, for we cannot see

Our selves mirrored in his.

What shelter will there be?

Mary Ann Taylor’s poetry appears recently in Twelve East Texas Poets: An Anthology. Her short fiction has appeared in journals and in Texas Shorts Vol.1: An Anthology of Short Stories by Texas Authors. Other works include plays, a musical revue, essays, and scholarly papers. After several years of writing opinion articles for the Dallas Morning News as a community volunteer, she most recently wrote a column discussing Juneteenth. Currently, she works as a media analyst for Ad Fontes. She has an undergraduate degree in music and continues to play the flute. Her graduate degree in English qualified her to teach college students writing and literature. She blogs at bluebonnetsyrup.com.

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