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Poem	I woke up this morning with the city's noises fusing into my dream A pride of lions roaring in anger The traffic, it must have been A hunter shouting something but I probably heard a street vendor For a moment, total silence then a shot rings out in the wild Perhaps a car's broken exhaust or the toy pistol from a child The noises slowly become familiar as I slip out of my dream I hear the neighbours coming in through the walls and I yawn in the dawn's early gleam The old man from below like every morning is listening to the radio The children from upstairs screaming their lungs out and there are people stumbling in the hallway as they go about But from the young couple next door usually fighting, not a sound Did they finally reconcile or at long last break up like they were bound Suddenly the people in the hallway scream and run I hear the panic in their voices and hurry out of bed As I look through the peephole I see the guy from next door his shirt, bloodshed red and in his hand a gun June 15, 2006 ©2006 Fenny
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