Sarin Nightmare

I fall asleep
with the image

of my two-year-old
bolting into the alley

just as a truck
speeds through.

I cannot bring myself
to imagine

what comes next
because

a boy in shorts
facedown on a beach

on a Greek shore or
a diapered child

dusty and unmoving
on a powdery city street

are enough.
So I promise

to be more careful
to tell my partner

to stay vigilant
and we should

buy a water filter
and gas masks

and start growing our own food
and make a plan

for survival
because on days like this

that’s where
my mind goes.

By Noriko Nakada

Biography:

Noriko Nakada writes, blogs, tweets, parents, and teaches middle school in Los Angeles. She is committed to writing thought-provoking creative non-fiction, fiction, and poetry. Publications include two book-length memoirs: Through Eyes Like Mine and Overdue Apologies, and excerpts, essays, and poetry in Lady Liberty Lit, Catapult, Meridian, Compose, Thread, Hippocampus, The Rising Phoenix Review, and Linden Avenue.