I gaze through the window,
outside the light begins to fade
the sky has deepened,
from pale blue to darker blueish grey,
with patches of purple indigo and orange
then it swiftly goes black;
the days’ curtain closes
but I don’t draw my curtains
nor do I turn on the light

I stand here,
high up the 21st floor,
allowing the square glow
from the computer and TV
to light up the room,
as I gaze at the winking taillights
of commuters rushing home;
juxtaposed with people
whose strides have slowed to less hurrying pace

Yet as I take in the pockets of scene before me
the repetitive drone of the news on TV
channel my thoughts to another scene
in another place, at another time;
unfolding in my harassed imagination,
conjuring images of frantic panic
of horrified pandemonium
as gunshots spewed from the window
in rapid fire at innocent lives

Many struck,
blown down by hate,
their painful screams still stuck in their throat
eyes frozen in disbelieving shock
their startled spirits jumped out in a hasty exit
as their curtain falls with eyelids squeezed shut;
the streets run with blood, yet we covet the gun
returning to our sanctuaries, we sigh and pray in mourning,
and wait for the next massacre.

©

Jacqueline

When society develops apathy to the ills found in its midst, the value of the life of its citizenry diminishes.