What strikes one about the end of those
lives lost in the – one cannot term it air disaster,
but massacre - is its simultaneity
in such a wide spectrum of individuality.
Photos restored what were varying wavelengths
of life expectation, from babes to students, or
the accomplished in careers, each face
a blossoming, set in brief conjunction.
What was assumed by all aboard, babes
by default, was transit to a common
destination; once there, feet would move
away in pre-set paths to where life unravels.
Suddenly, each head slopes forward aligned
in fate straight into a mountainside; screams
like brakes applied to no avail; a hundred
and fifty lives arrive at the same moment.