This Year's Valentine
by Philip Appleman

They could
   pump frenzy into air ducts
     and rage into reservoirs,
   dynamite dams
     and drown cities,
   cry fire in theaters
     as the victims are burning,
but
I will find my way through blackened streets
   and kneel down at your side.

They could
   jump the median, head-on,
     and obliterate the future,
   fit .45's to the hands of kids
     and skate them off to school,
   flip live butts into tinderbox forests
     and hellfire half the heavens,
but
in the rubble of smoking cottages
   I will hold you in my arms.

They could
   send kidnappers to kindergartens
     and pedophiles to playgrounds,
   wrap themselves in Old Glory
     and gut the Bill of Rights,
   pound the door with holy screed
     and put an end to reason,
but
I will cut through their curtains of cunning
   and find you somewhere in the moonlight.

Whatever they do with their anthrax or chainsaws,
however they strip-search or brainwash or blackmail,
they cannot prevent me from sending you robins,
all of them singing: I'll be there.