It’s Them

Have you heard it?
Late at night outside the big blast door,
the howls still come through somehow,
Maybe they’re just dogs gone hungry too long
or perhaps wolves, but no.
We know what makes that noise.
It’s them. Those that died outside.
Why do they blame us for living?
My parents tell me it’s only the storm wind,
but I hear the noises call me to come out.
Maybe tonight, when everyone is asleep,
I’ll creep up the tunnel and open the big blast door.

—a girl
  Rocky Mountains
  North America