The thirty survivors found the bunker at daylight.
Life became a hellish routine of nearly surviving,
yet Trina says she never wants to leave.
She speaks of jumping rope and barking dogs.
She speaks of torrid flames.
Trina sees patterns in everything; God is
here, she says, as a mist or ripples in a pond,
He is in this sunset, as pink as living coral.
(c) Rob Goldstein 2017 All Rights Reserved