Knife Crime
I didn’t hear the helicopter in the night
my wife did
and she heard voices
I was late coming downstairs
in my speckled maroon pyjamas
from an M & S outlet
still too big
even though the hormones
have made me put on a stone
she was stirring her porridge
I let the dogs out into the garden
they didn’t come back
they must have got out
I checked the front gate
it was open
the police left it open
at 1.30 in the morning
looking for someone or a knife
I was like a villain
trying to run after the dogs in my speckled maroon pyjamas
cradling my heart
hoping not to die
before I found them
crossing the road at the traffic lights
.
Sometimes we find ourselves caught up in something bigger than our own little slice of heaven and often, it’s frightening. I think it happens like your poem unfolds, us seeing everything in sort of slow motion. Well done on conveying it.
blessings,
jolen
Thanks for stopping by, jolen. Written down just after it happened.
Regards, Gerald.