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Dear diary,

      -April 13th,2020

   

There was
            the first gasp of the morning,
brittle,          and at the edge of dawn—

     There was   the teenager     zipping
through      traffic on his
      motorcycle,      there was the sound
of the brakes,         the shattering
   of the glass. There

was the slashing         of the flesh
         between the   thumb and the index
by the envelope’s edge;

the gaping of the wound
   as if it had               something to say.

There was the woman
cradling the girl        beside
      the crash,

how their dusty tear tracks had smeared,

      the beautiful dawn behind them.

There was        the officer
      that approached,          shaking her
head, gently;

      bits of glass,           crunching
beneath her feet.

There was the     motion     of the trees
   through my window
               this morning.

This world: mute, distant, chaos.

About the Author

Sebastian Santiago is originally from San Juan, Puerto Rico, but grew up just outside of Detroit, MI. He attained his English degree from Central Michigan University where the focus of his studies was creative writing with a concentration in poetry. Sebastian was recently living in Prague teaching English, but has since moved back to the US where his focus is on attaining his MFA in creative writing. He has work featured, or forthcoming, in The Emerson Review, Poetry South, Up North Lit, Scoundrel Time, BMP Voices and Rigorous among others.