Wednesday, August 13, 2014

In the Eye of the Cyclone

In the Eye of the Cyclone

We’ve had a stormy night and now the leaves
Are scattered, dead and dying, on the streets.

The winds of war are blowing strong again,
And in their eddies, dead and living swirl.

The wars of men had ended, they were told,
And yet, they’re lying wounded, dying, dead…

When caught between the sides, they ran or hid –
And when those paths were closed, they turned and fought.

The end result appears to be the same –
The odds are for injustice, darkness, death…

The great typhoon, the hurricane, destroys –
And spawns tornadoes that assist its work.

I walk the city streets, that now have sun,
And wonder where to hide and where to run.

For even though we’ve long been in the eye,
The whirling wall is moving hourly nigh…

I look upon a little leaf and see
A little girl, who will no longer be.

2014 August 13th, Wed.
Brooklyn, New York

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