Dios Madre

Claudia Castro Luna

Behind the counter
tending to a customer
he could see her
skipping and laughing
in the middle of the street
children playing
under the midday sun
soon she would come in
for her almuerzo
then head back out to school

He bent his head
to count out change
that is when
it happened
that is when
bullets ripped
his world in defense
of nothing that matters

In a split second
children, dogs, birds
the ghosts
who live in trees
even the gunman
dispersed
— but she did not