Comfort

She was just a little thing,

     this cousin of mine:

eleven, maybe twelve, whatever

     young enogh to register

Fear

     and peer away from it, toward

Safety

     which was me in the afternoon

midnight and in the blind darkness of

a thunderstorm

     with all its

Crash

Boom Bam

     sky-splintering flash of a lightnign

Strike

     to sever midnight

and I'd said It's all right

     Don't worry

     be afraid

Because

     the flash severing and the

Bolt

     quivering is only

God

     taking a picture of

You

     and so I'd severed the fear

Seen her through