Howie Good

299 792 458 m / s

The victims were granted
an unconditional right to scream,
their shrill operatic voices
startling birds off roofs & ledges,
& then light began to lose speed,
& from my seat on the train,
I saw Jupiter’s four largest moons,
wildflowers flicker & fade,
walls of faces alternating with hills of rubble,
a dog fully clothed walking alone,
& for a moment, maybe longer,
whatever that red toy trumpet, my heart,
said was true was true.

Howie Good writes at the speed of light. Then he revises at the speed of sound.