For today’s prompt, take the phrase “After (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles include: “After Dinner,” “After You,” “After Hours,” and/or “After I Finish Writing This Poem.” — Robert Lee Brewer, senior content editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community
Aftermath
After the worst has happened?
Inconceivably, life carries on.
But an alternate life, a changed life.
In which (I have thought):
what is left to fear?
Why should I be concerned with what anyone thinks,
with keeping up appearances?
With laying bare my soul on the page?
Nothing left to lose.
Or is there?
I have lived "every parent's nightmare"
and after, still I dream
of flood,
of failure,
of things lost and left behind.
[Unfair
that surviving a real-life nightmare
fails to end
bad dreams of the ordinary sort.]
After?
Still fear.
And life.
And figuring out the balance.