An unnatural sound draws
my attention as I wheel again
along the river’s edge. Now
I see what it is but am
puzzled at the sight.
There below, in the streaming river,
people are drowning.
They thrash about in fear,
many cry out for help,
some seem lost in the fray.
So many ways to die
and now one more I see.
They die in the air,
they die in the fire
and this new horror,
they are dying in the water.
They struggle in the outgoing tide,
pulled away from the edge
where others call to them
How did they get here?
Were they heaved from the tower top
into the water? Thrown across
the island to this watery grave?
It does not seem possible.
But here they flail.
A police boat arrives, its high prow
cuts toward the bobbing heads,
the deck men call out words of support.
They throw out life preservers.
The rings splash down
to the outreaching arms.