I remember that day well -
Fast-tracked and fleeting,
Scores of blank faces streaming,
Racing like rats in the rush
To secure another day safely under their shiny star-studded belts.
So busy they were, yet remembered -
The late lunch alfresco and lingering,
Coffee at four; the dry cleaning;
Phonecalls aplenty with vacuum repeated
And the outfit for after-work dining.
So busy they were, their strides kicked up dust,
Shading their eyes from the sight
Of the lost shadow, left shaking in the darkness -
A coughed-up crinkled ball of hope
Eating through his glazed eye,
Sewn-off to the waist and waiting
For generations of blown-out bitter corpses
To bleed from his scarred and heavy heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.