The enclosure could not contain 
The three of us and I walked 
With my mother and brother 
In tow against the burgeoning 
Blue green of the air brushed 
Sky, lilting smoke receding 
Where the plane crash 
Refuse blocked off the way
; 
There was something barren 
In the chemical trail, flat 
Basalt pathway clear
Of any trace of human
Life
; 
Despite their wishes 
I sought to go ahead
But all directions 
Wrapped around
To the same dull
Creek sputtering 
Translucent ichor 
Against the concrete 
Flat stack square
Where we stopped
To make sense 
Of our directions
In vain
; 
And that must have been 
An illusion because 
The next thing
I remember 
Was striking
My brother 
Against the
Floor of
That same
Enclosed
Room from
Which we 
Had escaped
, Wielding a 
Whip but 
Making 
Quicker 
Work 
With my
Fists to 
Beat him
Into the 
Hard concrete
; 
There were
Windows 
Which 
Opened
Up to that 
Same pale 
Sky which 
Painted the
Barren ground
We had walked
And my mother 
Looked on
Without 
Judgment
, Demure 
Featureless 
Expression
Which lingered 
Long after 
I had
Awoke.