Locked

4:47
Ninth floor

"The doors open in!

Move!”

No one hears her, just one more voice.

The ninth floor workers throw

themselves at metal doors,

screaming: Ratevet! Auidami! Help!

The flames are drawing closer,

like too hot blankets

and fear-sweat sticks Kate's shirtwaist

to her back, to her girl's chest

too tight to breathe.

Someone screams in Yiddish

and the crowd, hands trembling,

moves back just enough.

The fire licks at their skirts.

"Hail Mary," Kate whispers

against the hot air.

The doors shudder as girls pull,

the metal burning their hands.

They do not let go

but the door--

the door is locked.