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Spectating
I can't imagine dying like this, in a place like this; on a cold, dirty pavement with rush hour traffic screaming by and a crowd looking on while paramedics struggle to find space to move. Who could? Deep down we all think there should be a reason, a moment of clarity... or a family presence, at least. For this man, this boy, the rail thin woman lighting a cigarette in a faux fur jacket will have to do - she's been here since the start, her eyes tracking the movement of my shoulders as we fight to keep him on the right side of the line.
By S. A. Crawford3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
I loved this haiku. Storms sometimes but it depends how frequently! "Beating soil" is such a great image!
I love hearing the thunder and the rain. Beautiful haiku.
I love listening to rain on the roof. It's so relaxing for me. :3