One mention yesterday, just the body count. An ordinary day at an American school.
The news again
the end result of bloody toys
the news again
like some unfunny tired refrain
the mess caused by those manly toys
yet silence follows now, not noise,
the news again.
This morning, in the field, the noise of winged flurry, bright plumes threshing and hoarse bird cough. Leaf-flutter and branches parting, and pheasants land in a pool of peace. A truce, a stay of execution only, for they will not stay, even though I creep away and pretend I haven’t seen. Cage birds, freed for a brief moment, male and female with no nest, no young, no future but to fall beneath the bullets for someone’s bit of fun.
Life’s cycle turns, brings
birth, life, death, some pain, some joy—