The 2nd Sabbath of February

This Year's Valentine

by Philip Appleman

They could

pump frenzy into air ducts

and rage into reservoirs,

dynamite dams

and drown cities,

cry fire in theaters

as the victims are burning,

but

I will find my way through blackened streets

and kneel down at your side.

They could

jump the median, head-on,

and obliterate the future,

fit .45's to the hands of kids

and skate them off to school,

flip live butts into tinderbox forests

and hellfire half the heavens,

but

in the rubble of smoking cottages

I will hold you in my arms.

They could

send kidnappers to kindergartens

and pedophiles to playgrounds,

wrap themselves in Old Glory

and gut the Bill of Rights,

pound the door with holy screed

and put an end to reason,

but

I will cut through their curtains of cunning

and find you somewhere in the moonlight.

Whatever they do with their anthrax or chainsaws,

however they strip-search or brainwash or blackmail,

they cannot prevent me from sending you robins,

all of them singing: I'll be there.