Breath held, beyond strain,
swallowed by chryobursts of pluming purpled darkness.
beneath skin, drawn so taught
even the carrion crow can’t pick to the bone.
One blind second,
where the sun’s reflected rays all focused
on this illusion created,
all the glass tumbled down upon them
in a nightmarish daydream.
This moment of clarity,
where my bare feet bled for those
who had nothing,
and the crimson pool flowing from
shattered dreams bled onto the pavement.
Tribute poppies for he who passed by.
This is not justice,
redemption or holy in the name of any false god.
Somewhere behind the thudthud of blood pounding,
a child cries.
One of those shrieks of disbelief closing with a wail of disparity.
Frozen, still, helpless,
I hold her hand as the toll in her chest ends and she is free.
The pavement cracks
and nothing means a thing any more.