The Warning

    
The Warning
 
There’s a mist tonight in Brooklyn and it does not augur well.
It whispers of calamities, on which I would not dwell.
The schools are due to open, for we’re almost at September –
And memories return, of things we’d rather not remember…
 
There’s a mist tonight in Brooklyn, and the streets are wet with rain.
It thundered in the evening – and it brought back scenes of pain.
The tides of men are turning, and the lull we’re in won’t last –
And in this mist, I wander and I see the visions past…
 
There’s a mist tonight in Brooklyn, that is gentle, like a kiss.
And yet, I sense a tension – and that something is amiss.
The schools are due to open.  Soon, that horror will begin –
Yet hopefully, we’ll smile at kids, amidst the sea of sin.
 
There’s a mist tonight in Brooklyn and I’m walking in that mist.
And in the city’s silence, I can hear a warning hissed.
But what that warning whispers, I cannot truly tell.
And if I understood it, it’s not on what I’d dwell.
 
2014 August 31st, Sun.
Brooklyn, New York