Croatia was the holiday of a lifetime,
For the passengers and the crew, homeowners and
Firemen fought the flames that lingered on,
Fed by puddling
Paramedics shrouded fragmented flesh in yellow,
Formed a yellow sea.
Fighting their way through media microphones,
Roar of questions punctuated by the beat of helicopter blades
And broken hearts.
Picked over the plane’s carcass like ants,
Carefully dissecting scorched remnants, torn metal.
Desperately searching for answers.
For the voices of dead men.