Columbine, Ten Years Later
Has it really been ten years since that bloody Colorado day? Innocence was blasted away in a decade of blood, terror, tears. Through the halls echoes and screams as they scrambled to flee the death. Bullets; a kiss of hot breath, their world brutally torn at seams. Twenty minutes in a killing field; thirteen lives torn from bodies bleeding. "Save us God," was the urgent pleading. Ten years later we visit scars unhealed. In Columbine they remember when hell visited, praying for the killers and those long dead.
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Knitted
A knitted pink hat Sits upon a fire hydrant At the bottom of my street I wonder who lost This fuzzy hat so neat. A child sized glove Sits upon the stone wall By the church old and worn. I wonder on whose hand It supposed to adorn A rainbow hued scarf Is tied to a street sign, Over on Canal Street, I wonder whose throat Should be wrapped, neat. Here a ball cap and a shoe, How can clothing can get lost And misplaced in this way, Fingers, toes, ears and nose Left cold and alone every day.
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