She’s thinking about grief and trauma, how they can hide out inside a woman, how they can come back. The playwright follows her eyes, until he sees what she sees. The photographer’s framed image, the orphan girl lit up by the explosion, a girl blowing forward, a girl coming out of fire, a girl who looks as if she might blast right through image and time into the world“I know what’s happened,” the poet says.

The Small Backs of Children