It could have happened.
It had to happen.
It happened earlier. Later.
Nearer. Farther off.
It happened, but not to you.

You were saved because you were the first.
You were saved because you were the last.
Alone. With others.
On the right. On the left.
Because it was raining. Because of the shade.
Because the day was sunny.

You were in luck – there was a forest.
You were in luck – there were no trees.
You were in luck – a rake, a hook, a beam, a brake,
A jamb, a turn, a quarter-inch, an instant…

So you’re here? Still dizzy from
another dodge, close shave, reprieve?
One hole in the net and you slipped through?
I couldn’t be more shocked or
speechless.
Listen,
how your heart pounds inside me.

To me this poem is very personal. It speaks to me of my father’s family exile in Siberia during WW2 (though I am sure the poem has other meanings for the author). He was a small child and survived along with his parents and 3 of his siblings. Their survival must have been very precarious, they survived the winters, forced labour, imprisonment, transportation in cattle trucks, lack of food, disease, injury and finally escape to Persia….therefore it “could have” been different, I wouldn’t be alive for one thing! His heart is pounding inside me….