Found+Poems

Jordyn

//__ The Found __//

Then she was found.

The bombardment was finished

They had sighted their target

Alerted their bombardiers at five thousand miles an hour;

Quick as the whisper of a scythe the war was finished

Once the bomb-release was yanked it was over.

Now, a full three seconds,

All of the time in history,

Before the bombs struck,

The ships were gone

Like bullets in which a savage islander might not believe

They were invisible;

Yet the heart is suddenly shattered,

The body falls in separate motions

The blood isastonished to be freed on the air;

The brain squanders its few precious memories

Puzzled,

Dies.

One and a half-second,

Before it took her,

This was not to be believed

It was merely a gesture.

Montag saw the flirt of a great metal fist over the far city

He knew the scream of the jets that would follow,

Would say,

After the deed,

Disintegrate,

Leave no stone on another,

Perish.

Die.

One second,

And he knew it was too late for her,

Montag held the bombs in the sky

A single moment,

His mind and his hands reaching helplessly at them.

Run!" he cried to Faber. To Clarisse, "Run!"

And to Mildred, "Get out, get out of there!”

But Clarisse was dead.

Faber was out

In the deep valleys of the country somewhere

And Mildred. ..

Get out, run!

The half-second remaining

Bombs a yard, a foot, an inch from her building

He saw her in her hotel room somewhere

. He saw her leaning toward the great shimmering walls of color

Motion where the family talked and talked and talked to her,

Where the family prattled and chatted and said her name and smiled at her

Saying nothing of the bomb

That was an inch, now a half-inch, now a quarter-inch from her the top of the hotel. Leaning into the wall as if all of the hunger of looking

Would find the secret of her sleepless unease there.

Mildred,

Leaning,

Anxiously,

Nervously,

As if to

Plunge,

Drop,

Fall into that swarming immensity of color

Only to drown in its bright happiness.

The first bomb struck.

“Mildred!”

Then they all were found.

And it was done.

** The Burning **

Books bombarded his shoulders. A book lit , like a white pigeon , wings fluttering. A page hung open, like a snowy feather , words delicately painted. Montag had an instant to read a line. It blazed in his mind, stamped like fiery steel.

Page 37 paragraph 3 Fahrenheit 451 = = Like Phoenixes They Flew They rounded corners in Thunder and siren, With concussion of tires, With the shift of kerosene Splashing Throughout the tank, Like the food being Emptied, Into the belly of giants, With his fingers Jolting Off the silver rail, Swinging Into space, with The wind Tearing his hair off His head, and The wind Whistling in his teeth Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury pg 109 Jared Newsome