Seconds Before the Thunderclap Came

Seconds before the thunderclap came

In every 

Single

Unit

The summit of the day had been reached 

And with it came

The assurance of immortality

Which arrives 

When danger is as far away

as the faraway moon

which at that very moment

was watching over each and every one of them 

In every

Single

Unit

like the nightlight

of the nursery

where Mom and Dad

once upon a time 

held vigil in the shadows 

counted baby breaths for inventory

and exported dreams 

to ensure everlasting love 

and most of all

a very, very long life.

Outside was the 

after-hours 

clocked-out ocean

Which was something to boast about

and take every angle pictures of

from their balconies 

while it was still rumble tumble awake

to send to friends and relatives

who would envy them

And everything about their life

for at least one more minute.

There were no lifeboats for

the beloved of 

every

Single

unit 

of Champlain Towers South

in Surfside, Florida

on that summer quiet 

June moon night

in 2021.

In finely appointed steerage were

fragile grandparents

tender-hearted parents

shiny children

dependable nannies

twentysomething lovers 

Groping on the grown-up island of a king-size bed

Orthodox Jews

And South American tourists.

Who all shared one thing:

The infinity of daydreams.

And so 

As TVs mumbled

And singers streamed

they all went about their silent rituals.

They polished their teeth

and took their pills

stroked their hair with longing and hope

and slipped into the confidence of nudity and nightwear.

And then

at the exact same moment

Someone arrived at an off-duty refrigerator 

As someone else

suddenly sat up quickly on the edge of the bed

and saw 

the image of the one that they loved the most

fly away like an untethered astronaut

And in perfect synchronicity, 

they both reached out for ice cream and

Heartache.

And that is when the thunderclap came.

And they were gone.