It is May

it is the season of grief

Time tries

to convince

that the past is past

but what a sham

when nothing passes

it is all here

while jacarandas

are giving

away their beauty

lavender tears

pooling all over town

from our center

an iron bell is sounding

with

the shots fired

the car aiming

the knife finding

and what are we to do

because do

is imperative

do is to prevent,

to turn away

the chance

of another like this.

Banish distractions

disconnect from illusions

calculate,

act,

as if

there’s a problem needing

to be solved

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