This Dream

The moments come and go,
just a different twist,
a fairer fate,
another turn,
a better choice,
life and death,
darkness or light,
nothing and everything,
something else;

we come so close.

83 dead,
the silence shattered
as the gunman reloads,
Louisville in mourning,
there are things never
forgotten;

who is to say?
who is to know?

does it never end?

The sun rises,
a new day’s heat begins,
suffocating and choking,
flesh melting like
yesterday’s butter,
chard and putrid,
fresh rubber sizzling
like bacon in grease
on the soft asphalt surface,
one more on the road,
out of the frying pan
and into the fire;

another one tastes the dust.

Take it away,
let it be no more,
bring about an end,
take it from my eyes,
take it from my mind,
this whisper,
this hush;

this dream.
.
.