Fearing the Skies of Home
I finish the day with a backlit screen.
A flurry of moving images bleed over
The lifeless faces of onlookers
waiting for life
Giving blood to warm the tears from their faces.
I continue capturing a carpet of color
Woven by ones and zeros
The man in our house
Selling us paranoia and safety
In the same statement
visions of old freedom cling desperately
To new bombs
A nexus of life and death.
Early this morning the alarm irritated myself from slumber
The voice saying "this day will be good" is silenced
By screaming for help
with hope someone will answer.