I woke up this morning
with the city’s noises
fusing into my dream
A pride of lions
roaring in anger
The traffic, it must have been
A hunter shouting something
but I probably heard a street vendor
For a moment, total silence
then a shot rings out in the wild
Perhaps a car’s broken exhaust
or the toy pistol from a child
The noises slowly become familiar
as I slip out of my dream
I hear the neighbours coming in
through the walls
and I yawn in the dawn’s early gleam
The old man from below
like every morning
is listening to the radio
The children from upstairs
screaming their lungs out
and there are people stumbling in the hallway
as they go about
But from the young couple next door
usually fighting, not a sound
Did they finally reconcile
or at long last break up
like they were bound
Suddenly the people in the hallway scream and run
I hear the panic in their voices
and hurry out of bed
As I look through the peephole
I see the guy from next door
his shirt, bloodshed red
and in his hand a gun
June 15, 2006
©2006 Fenny
(Fenny Sterenborg)
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