The Coward Unseen Poem by Sally A Mortemore

Sirens wail of a new tomorrow
as the city slides to a sleep -
the Amen weep for the fallen
flailing the sterile streets.
Within these enforced prison walls we wonder
who bows next to this contemptuous of masters
the one who tugs at every breath with iron fists
and prays the weak
with howls of irrefutable disasters.
And yes the sun may shine
as the children play
whilst bird song mutes the silence -
but rales of death rattle our shattered doors
and black thoughts carry the virus.


Sally Mortemore
May 2020