The Kursk

Down here
young sons lie silent,
hearts stilled too soon
by shocks
that shook
a seismographic needle
twice.

Up there
mothers, fathers stare 
into the mirror,
watching petals
break free
and slip beneath
the gray.

Underwater
sound carries far --
goodbyes ring
on crumpled steel,
never reaching
the tender hearts
inside.

Scott Speck
08/24/00