This poem is a salute to the White Helmets of Syria.
[INAUDIBLE]
The road to paradise, an avalanche of blood,
swerved away from them.
They hear a breath launch their sirens through pile towers,
blinding dust.
Shovel through concrete muffled moans, my eyes heed
bodies snapped into silence.
Blow my mouth into beaten lungs, for even God
had to light the clay with his terrible breath.
Hand slap the new tender flesh, fingers
retrieve a cry from the throbbing umbilical cord.