Fog

In this city by the sea
where people once jostled with familiarity
a preponderant fog has descended on
the inhabitants of this bruised, battered town.

In the wake of such terrific days that were -
moments of hope, shattered by rumouring fear -
a common conscience that was wont to lumber,
wont to deny, to drown the thunder
with its obdurate, stubborn - even insipid resilience,
stands chatised for its blinded negligence;
now exposed, stripped and naked,
as it cries afoul of murder in the name of hatred.

Like a veil of widowed, grey despair,
this keening fog hangs in the air,
the southern sun can't pierce its hold
until these mourners have let their grief unfold.