An Uneasy Peace

The image shows a street scene of an old town in Europe.

dawn’s pink fingers
caress the town awake
softening the darkness
bringing forth the light

he walks alone
fighting recollections
of grim gun-metal days
running through
crimson-spattered streets
dodging snipers
and falling shells

the war is over
but remembered sounds
and bitter memories
remain locked inside
his broken heart.

Image credit: Maksym Harbar @Unsplash

Written in response to Sadje‘s What do You See #101 photo prompt.

Why can’t we live together?


why can't we live together lunasonline
Photo: @erdwolf

I’d been late leaving school that afternoon. I’d stayed behind because nice Miss Leibrandt had been helping me with my poem.

On the way home I’d been kicking a can along the dirt pathway between the shacks when I heard shouting over on the main road. Then there was the explosion. Flames shot up into the air, all red and angry-looking. Black smoke billowed upwards.

My house was the other way, but I had to see. I peered out from the end of the lane. People were jumping up and down in the street, arms waving angrily. They were chanting.

Flames licked out of the little corner shop. My friend’s shop. Mr Kabongo whose skin was as black as night, who came from another country further up the map of Africa. Mr Kabongo who told me stories about the animals of the forest where he grew up and the people who lived there before the war in his country. Mr Kabongo who gave me sweets when I went to fetch a half-loaf for my mother.

And now his shop was destroyed. I wondered if he was safe. Had he run, as he’d run before?

Why can’t we all live together?