Poetry

There’s no other country
where I have seen the same blue hue
in the sky, have experienced
the same notion of experiencing
something so pure.
 
There’s no other country
where day by day
I have experienced the sun
flying up in its arc
like a eagle on its wings
 
but then one morning
a series of gunshots awakes me
where my neighbour across the street
lies bleeding
 
with robbers racing away
with his stolen car, passing me in a blur
and I wonder if he is still living,
rushing over the road to try to help him.