The sun is high , it’s rays draping the sky like a blanket.
The kind of day you won’t need a hanky to wipe sweat.
The wind is gentle, and the trees sway as if dancing to some unheard tune.
It dances with the earth, and the earth responds. Together, they make mini cyclones.
The town is quiet. Eerily quiet. You could hear a pin drop from a mile away.
Peaceful and tranquil. One could sleep through the course of the day.
An abandoned slipper. A plate of food half eaten. A bottle of drink upturned.
Free bounties for one who needs them. Not a theft this time, case adjourned
The rubble mounts, of once standing homes.
Vultures swoop down, eager to pick some bones.
Empty canisters are sprawled on the ground.
Flies buzz merrily. What’s there to be found?
A hand spread out. Not in hello.
Dead bodies don’t greet just so you know.
They run in flight, the occupants of the town.
Cos’ bombs don’t hesitate; they bring you down.
It’s a beautiful day, the forecast clear.
Just not for those whose ends are near.