Broken Shadow
The sun split the day, that had started grey,
and turned it burnished blue.
The city haze soon banished the greys
and took on a pastel hue.
Tower blocks soared and traffic roared
and heat haze bent perspective,
Street cafés plied and vied for the trade of
the Ray-Banned, coffee collective.
Executive guys loosened their ties
and went jacket-less in the heat,
the smiles had returned as the hot sun burned
and melted the tar on the street.
A convivial day in every way for shoppers
and tourists alike,
the hotel concierge, the couple sat on the verge
and the old guy riding the bike.
The blast from the bomb shattered the calm
and darkened the rays of the sun,
in the afterglow, only broken shadow
and people starting to run.
Shattered windows, shattered lives,
shattered by a dream,
all that remains is bodies in pain
and a single, primal scream.
Copyright © John Jones | Year Posted 2020
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