Gratitude

You asked me how I was today, so I
looked up at the bright blue bars above
me, where the departed - oceans away -
took refuge in frozen time. I answered,
"Fine."
You asked me about the weather as
the clouds wept liquid bullets, who
familiarized themselves with marching soldiers,
and crashed to Earth, forgotten. I answered,
"Average."
You asked me what was new as lives began and flew
from wombs; as cities burned and good men died;
as rebels saved and saviors lied;
as mothers wept upon the end; as bullets soared
through the sky. I answered,
"Nothing."