Foxhole

Men, women and children in basements and corners and foxholes
Surrounded by earth and structures and depth to fortify themselves from the fire and shrapnel
Some looking upward in horror
Others covering their faces downward in tears and terror
As death machines drop fire and pressure on their homes
Tearing their homes and bodies apart
Their brothers and sisters and parents and children and peers and elders bleeding and dying
Will I be next?
Second after second
Minute after minute
Hour after hour
The families
The people
The citizens
Without a reason
Without a defense
Without a corner of their psyche to fortify themselves
No answer
No help coming