Judith Skillman
How Many Children Later
1. Nineteen Sixties
They teach us about strangers—picture of a Cadillac
on blue mimeograph, window rolled down,
Would you like a piece of candy?—cue us to say No.
We read about two sisters who disappeared
from a movie theater and never came back.
2. Nineteen Eighties
The same strangers in a different car—no longer a Cadillac—
a Honda. I tell my children not to stop. To walk
quickly, hold their heads high, at the ready
to run towards a driveway with a sign: Safe House.
If it comes to that, I remind them to scream.
3. 2018
My grown daughter tells me of the armed guard
at Opstad Elementary, stationed in the parking lot
when school begins and ends. This makes
her feel somewhat better. At school X—
a lock down. No one knows when it will end.
Parents pace, try to breathe, recall footage
of the last memorial, and those before.
Judith Skillman is is the author of Premise of Light (Tebot Bach, 2018). Her poems have appeared in Shenandoah, Seneca Review, Cimarron Review, Zyzzyva, and other journals. She is the recipient of grants from Artist Trust and the Academy of American Poets. She is a faculty member at Richard Hugo House in Seattle, Washington.
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