ground zeroes

tonight a friend sent a photo of another "ground zero"--this one in dresden, circa 1945.

in it you see blue-clad gerd standing on a patch of soft soil where, on the day of the bombing, he was in a buggy on the top floor of the house when it tumbled. his mother pulled him from the rubble.

while i've been typing this, one of my coworkers has come in for his late shift. though i'm not eavesdropping, i can hear him tell the big boss that his brother died on this year's anniversary of thanksgiving.

he's not too much older than gerd, i'd say.

here we all are, not knowing one damn thing about each other, and ain't we all just the same anyway... ain't we just...