The Crush

On the back pages of the moon
men's voices come and go
before wars and after
card games until dawn
combines the silences.
The power is on again,
off again. Here
there is trust and there
is no place to hide
the occasional laughter
of the nervous but under
the quiet shelves
in a hundred pieces,
another hundred wires;
those bricks and windows
where there are homes of wonder
and assault - the places
that give up shade
to cover the brave
and coward alike
in ruins and prayers now
crowned with the ragged
families, the what's-left-over
who whisper: repair and brace.