Symphony for a Foster Friend Sam Herbig You sit alone in your corner, Your feet bound, Shivering. The crickets set the mood for the evening, And your pulse adjusts itself. The sirens start their slow crescendo, Rising and falling Like the waves you love Under the command Of the Great Crescent In the sky. More and more Rising and falling, Forming their colliding canon. That chorus sings in thirds and fifths. The chirping cricket drums Drown in the shuddering of the helicopters. Their shuddering mimics your shivering. Your pulse quickens to match This new tempo. The men join the chorus, Shouting in sixths and sevenths As the door is kicked open, You scream out, Joining the wailing choir With your own heavenly voice. You, my darling, fill in The root of this dissonant chord With your shrieks and cries For the mother who hates you. Together, the sirens, the men, And you, my precious dear, Fill the night With wailing And gnashing of teeth For your sake:
You are the root of this chord And of this Silent Night. Tonight, you are the star Just as you will be years later In my mind and heart. The men lock you in the car. And as you drive off, You join the ranks of The killers in the police cars, The patients in the helicopter lifts, The insane in the ambulances, The broken child in the father’s arms, The soul in the angel’s chariot. All are going home, And now, my sweet, You are as well. You hear that the shouting men have stopped. The helicopter And the crickets Have stopped, Leaving only the chatter of your teeth, The screaming sirens, And your occasional sobs And your pounding heart, Looking for its lost pint. They drop you at the farm, The place where you got your accent And love of horses. You were adopted And settled into the Victorian Way of Life. You learned to sing In beautiful harmonies— And became a siren yourself. You met all of us. But never forgot Your discordant beginning, And when you grow up And join the army And learn to love, Never forget how beautiful The Sirens sounded When they faded from your world.
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