In the afternoon, rain just beginning to pelt
the windows, we sat at attention, uniformly
rapt while Mother Superior explained it:
how they would march us into the gym,
divide us into two groups,
how the believers would be backed
against the wall, die in a hail of
machine gun fire, how
we would have to decide
once and for all
which side we were on.
That evening, kneeling before
the television set, my head resting
on the paper on my father’s knees, I saw
the girl on fire, trying to outrun
her own back,
and I understood
for the first time,
the body counts.
And I knew then,
with absolute conviction,
I wanted to be among the saved.
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