The First Day of School

I. Me

I was among

the last of fourteen (ten went home

before third period

but not before we filed past

Ms. Bateman clutching the phone

and crying)

Ten fingers

wrapped around my mother’s arm

walking the two blocks home

she told me

and then

the smoke

and paper

and I smelled

it.

II. Him

Light-up sneakers kick under the table

His eyes on my mother’s

fingers peeling

egg white from yolk

And he says

to the blonde lady with the nice purse

“There are bombs downtown.

You’ll die.”