The List
[01.14.10]

I sat on the cold bench, waiting
Listening to the sirens go by
As I heard bystanders murmer the names of my friends

The blaring horns overhead are indistinguishable,
No doubt issuing a warning that’s far too late for some

It sounded like a whistle, something a child would sing
Harmlessly careening through the sky

It dropped itself lightly, like a football lost in flight
Before exploding at the scene
Chunks clunk clunk clunking on the roof above

Air rife with smoke and powder
Confusion with ammo crossing paths, out for blood

Looking around, taking names and making sure everyone is safe
My list seems a little bare, three lines are left blank