All Poems, Pain, Sounds, Trauma, Violence

Neighborhood

 

The neighborhood is quiet.

A peaceful place.

Where bees buzz.

Robins sing.

People wave, converse.

Sometimes listen to audiobooks.

Except this morning.

Everything booms.

Helicopters roar.

Trains rattle by.

Amazon trucks thunder.

Then, Fed Ex.

The wind.

Huffs, puffs.

Into ears.

Blows off hats, scarves.

Knocks walkers off paths.

Perhaps noisiest of all,

thoughts inside my head.

Explosions in the Middle East.

Mayhem and bloodshed.

Could it be discordant sounds

outside and in the brain,

remind us that all around

lay suffering and pain?

Whatever we can do

so others’ spirits rise,

will surely calm the clamor.

Mend ears, revitalize.

 

Lynn Benjamin

October 24, 2023