The night has malingered,
dripping cold
in spite of the fire’s heat.
Daybreak is a formality.
There is no sun to speak of,
only eventual illumination.
Heavy cloud cover
settles on the backs of nearby mountains,
making the valley a corridor.
Sounds echo off the sky
and my voice rings in my ears
as I inquire of every survivor:
“Have you seen a man
about this high?
Brown hair?
Do you know Peter?”