Is It Safe?
written by: Stanley Wilkin
Is it safe?
A modest town buried in a valley
With pathways zeroed on a wood
And broken-backed ravines,
A shaggy cat lady languishing by the river.
Is it safe?
That morning we ventured out
Looking for berries,
By then ripe, red and glowing,
And stole them from the pathways’ grip
Like thieves, when we were young.
We stole one afternoon the apples from an orchard
The day before our little brother died.
“Is it safe?”
As we walked we tossed the mouldering berries
Into our brazen mouths
Remembering our childhoods in the
Bleeding sun- a transfixed eye then
And now a wound.
A stare that never ceased.
In our threadbare memories, mother called
Her spittle falling on our heads
Like blessed lemonade
And…
“Is it safe?”
We asked.
“No,” she replied. “It’s never safe. Under each rock lies a serpent, under each serpent a nettle.”
Climbing up towards the mountain
Gliding across our vision like an ancient cut,
Pouring blood, we looked back at our watching
Mother, now a shade with rotting eyes.
“Is it safe?”
She called.
Flames ejected from the rocks around us
As our mother crumbled into dust.
“Is it safe?” We called.
As each speck floated upward like a smear.
“It’s never safe.”
She replied with a soulless, blood curdling laugh.
“Never!! Never!!”
The rain descended in a flood of barely
Remembered memories battering the mountain tops
Like a teacher’s angry slap.
“Is it safe?” We asked, the berries eating away our
Stomachs, noting the savage policeman with his gun.
“Is it safe?” He boomed.
An earthquake cracked the swollen ground beneath our feet.
“It’s never safe.”
The friendly gods laughed.
“It’s never safe.”
The kindly cop fired his gun, turned and walked away.
“It’s never safe.” He muttered giving his cap
A gentle touch, moving it across his head.
- Is It Safe? - July 17, 2026
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