Smoke Clouds

Less than twenty-four hours ago
we received news
that one of us, a Wave
named Alaina Housley,
was shot and killed.

Now, some eighteen hours later,
we awaken to plumes of smoke
on the horizon, churning in the air
as fire blazes towards us.
We must force mourning
out of our minds and focus
on the here and now.
We must abandon our homes
and migrate deeper into campus;
some students take their cars and flee,
but others simply trudge like cattle
to what may be a safe pasture
or a slaughterhouse.

Fire does not respect
the timeline of grief.