The church bells rang on the hill above my house
While the children played below.

The youngest from another neighborhood
Asked me what it was.

“That’s the monster alarm,” I said.
“It’s how we know when the monsters come.”

And I must admit
To my pride in the look that passed among them,

And I must confess
To a power in the silence of their trusting,

Having led them to the frontier of
My tremendous lie,

Rearing on its haunches,
Darkening our sky.

(First published in Last Leaves #8, Spring 2024. Thanks to the editors.)