After the quake rips through the earth
Gouging and splintering, leaving for dead
Hundreds of loved ones and home as they knew it.
After the ship falters and sinks
Flinging the desperately fleeing immigrants
Into the sea of no return.
After the plane plunges to earth
Flown by someone bent on destruction
Getting his wish. There are no survivors.
After the brutal devastation and horror
Grief overtakes those still alive
And us the world watching.
Then they appear to pick up the pieces
Like a Greek Chorus in yellow hazmat suits
Or red or white jumpsuits – the last responders.
Assembled to pull us back from the abyss
Bringing a semblance of order to chaos
They harvest the dead to be decently buried.
We do give them honor.
poetrybyheart.me 
This is spectacular! I loved it! Well done, Viva!!! ❤
Thanks, Colleen. I appreciate always your taking the time to read and reply to my posts, ❤
Just tugged and drew me in.
P.S Were you referring to the tragic plane crash with the suicidal co pilot somewhere in there?
You’re right. The suicide pilot was there. Your close reading warms me.
Impressive tribute without being overly dramatic. Loved the “Greek Chorus in yellow hazmat suits.” Another powerful post!
Thank you, Susan. I like that you like the Greek Chorus.