SPLIT SECOND:

Woke to loud drumming on the roof,
the sweet green smell of cleansed summer air,
car windows open all night, nature all over the
seats. Standing in the rain at 6:00am, key in hand,
face up to the light, in a smile & trainers & little
else. The seasons roll around, clouds fill the sky
& leave, reveal the sun & feed the seed. Life goes
on, but not for those who left too soon by violent
hands, driven by whim, beaten perhaps to their own
intentions. And what of those hands now, not to embrace
or wave in greeting, nor raised open to the rain in
celebration, caressing locks & bars & brick dust?

(K)